


Pie Another Day

by gluupor



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pushing Daisies Fusion, Asexual Relationship, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, Other, despite all the death there is minimal angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-13 06:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13565184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: Andrew Minyard is content with his life baking pies in his pie shop and occasionally helping private investigator Kevin Day solve murders. You see, Andrew has a special ability: he can bring dead people back to life. As with any unexplained magic power, there are conditions: 1) if the person he brings back to life remains alive for more than one minute then somebody nearby dies in their place, and 2) if he touches the person he brought to life a second time, they will die forever.Andrew’s never had trouble following either of these rules (barring a few incidents in his youth) until Kevin decides to solve the murder of Nathaniel Wesninski.





	1. The Death of Nathaniel Wesninski

**Author's Note:**

> So this is pretty self-indulgent. I got the idea when I was writing my [Hunger Games AU](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13345323) when Neil was completely Done with everything and I was trying to think up scenarios where Neil would be truthful and I came up with: if he were dead. Which led to this fic, which is basically a Pushing Daisies AU. It kind of got put on the back burner while I've been writing my [Brooklyn Nine-Nine AU series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/926220). I think that it will be about 10 chapters; it's currently about half finished. I'll try to post once a week.
> 
> If you've never seen Pushing Daisies (I'm assuming that's most of you - it did air over a decade ago), don't worry, you don't need to have watched it to understand and although I've taken the premise and the omniscient narrator, I've kind of also gone off on my own tangent (if you haven't seen it and you get a chance to, I would highly recommend it. It's both cleverly written and visually stunning). 
> 
> I promise that no character you care about is going to die... except for Neil, but, like Marley, he was dead to begin with. And, yes, I am both proud of/embarrassed by the punny title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are vague mentions of both Andrew's and Neil's childhood abuse, mentions of murder, and death. There is also a brief reference to an accidental drug overdose. This makes it sound a lot darker than it is. It's very light-hearted, I promise.

Young Andrew was 12 years, 5 months, 10 days, 20 hours, and 3 minutes old when he realized he wasn’t like other children; nor was he like anyone else, for that matter. That was when a blood vessel in his foster mother’s brain burst, killing her instantly. She fell lifelessly to the floor in the middle of baking pies. Andrew hesitantly approached her body and tentatively touched her cheek. At his touch, a shock seemed to go through her and she breathed in deeply, no longer dead.

Yes, Andrew could touch dead things and bring them back to life.

This touch was a gift given to him, but not by anyone in particular. There was no box, no instructions, no manufacturer’s warranty: it just was. The terms of use weren’t immediately clear, nor were they of immediate concern. His foster mother was alive and he was about to get pie.

“I must’ve slipped. How clumsy,” said Cass, his foster mother. She got up and looked at the stove. “Did the timer go off?”

Andrew’s random gift came with a caveat or two. After a minute of Cass’ second chance at life, a thump echoed from upstairs, where Cass’ biological son Drake was lounging. Andrew discovered that his gift not only gave: it also took. He could only bring the dead back to life for one minute without consequence; any longer, and someone else had to die.

In the grand universal scheme of things, Andrew had traded Cass’ life for Drake’s. He felt this was an excellent trade off; he now had the mother he’d always wished for without her son creeping into his bedroom at night.

However, there was one more thing about touching dead things that Andrew didn’t yet know. That evening, after all the panic and grief and commotion that had occurred when Cass had discovered her son’s untimely death, she was settling Andrew into bed. Her eyes were tired and sad, but she leaned forward to kiss Andrew’s forehead. As soon as her lips made contact, she slumped to the ground, dead again. Andrew tried to bring her back, but was unsuccessful. You see, the first touch brought life, but after the second touch Cass was dead again, forever.

Andrew was sent back into the foster system, until a friendly cop reunited him with his biological twin brother, Aaron, and their mother, Tilda. Through a particularly grisly series of events, Andrew ended up causing Tilda’s death when Aaron, 15 years, 8 months, 24 days, 8 hours, and 32 minutes old, accidentally overdosed on drugs and Andrew brought him back to life. Again, Andrew felt that this was an excellent trade off since Tilda was both violent and the one who had gotten Aaron hooked on drugs in the first place. Aaron was less enthused. Afterwards, Andrew kept Aaron at arm’s length, not wanting to cause his second, permanent death. At Tilda’s funeral, the twins’ cousin Nicky (aged 20 years, 2 months, 13 days, 12 hours, and 12 minutes) offered to become their guardian.

8 years, 7 months, 7 days, 22 hours, and 53 minutes later (heretofore known as ‘now’), came the event that changed everything. Andrew owned a small pie shop, called Go Pie, where he was able to indulge in his favourite pastime of baking pies; a pastime that had originated the day when both Cass and Drake had died. Nicky worked as a waiter at Go Pie, and was their public face since he was infinitely more suited to engage in small talk with the customers.

Andrew had finished his morning baking, the pies were in the ovens, and he was sitting at a booth with Kevin Day, who was perusing the newspaper. Kevin, along with Nicky, was one of the only people who knew of Andrew’s ability. He’d discovered it by mistake; following a devastating and traumatic injury that derailed his lifelong dream of becoming an exy star, he’d become a private detective. When chasing a suspected jewel thief across rooftops, the suspect had tripped and fallen to his death. Serendipitously, the thief fell onto a dumpster, breaking his neck, outside of Go Pie where Andrew had been disposing of garbage. The thief had lifelessly rolled off the dumpster and come into contact with Andrew. Now alive again, he’d sprung to his feet before Andrew had slapped him to return him to death. Kevin had witnessed the entire exchange and was instantly assailed with ideas on how to use Andrew’s power; murders were much easier to solve when you could ask the victim who killed them. Andrew had reluctantly agreed to a partnership - his shop was on the verge of financial ruin.

Kevin gave a shocked gasp just as Nicky dropped of a slice of pie for Andrew - peach, this morning.

“What’s wrong?” asked Nicky.

Kevin put the newspaper on the table. There was a blurry picture of a young man under the headline LOCAL BUSINESSMAN OFFERS $50,000 REWARD FOR INFORMATION ABOUT SON’S MURDER.

“Oooh,” said Nicky. “What a looker.”

Kevin gave him a disgusted look. “He’s dead. You sound like a necrophiliac.”

Nicky cocked his head. “I suffer from sudden and uncontrollable attacks of deep sleep?”

“That’s a narcoleptic,” said Kevin.

“Oh,” said Nicky, then, in realization, “Oh! Oops. Words that sound alike get mixed up in my head.” He chuckled. “I used to think masturbation meant chewing your food.” And Kevin’s unimpressed glare, his face fell. “I don’t anymore,” he muttered.

“Who is the kid?” asked Andrew, indicating the paper.

“Someone I used to know,” said Kevin vaguely. “And his father isn’t just a businessman, he’s mixed up with the Moriyamas.”

The facts were these: Nathan Wesninski enjoyed getting his hands dirty, and by ‘dirty’ he meant bloody. He was in the business of murder and he was very successful. He felt that his nickname of ‘The Butcher’ communicated these facts well. He worked for the Moriyama crime family, acting as their iron fist. Two days previously he had been called in to the morgue to identify the body of his son. He had not seen his son for 14 years, 9 months, 22 days, 14 hours, and 23 minutes, ever since his wife had rabbited away with both him and five million dollars in the middle of the night. Nathan had had vested interest in killing his son himself and was not best pleased that someone had stolen the opportunity to do so. Also, his son still knew where the remainder of the five million dollars was hidden and Nathan wanted it returned. Therefore, he was looking for his son’s murderer.

“Maybe you should stay away from anything to do with the Moriyamas?” Nicky suggested.

“$25,000 is a lot of money to give up because of cowardice,” said Andrew.

“Staying away from people we know to be violent murderers sounds like common sense, not cowardice,” argued Kevin.

“Fine,” said Andrew. “I’ll just go alone to ask the kid who murdered him and get the entire reward for myself.”

“He’s not a kid,” said Kevin. “He’s only about a year younger than you are.”

“My point still stands,” said Andrew.

Kevin sighed deeply. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll go talk to Nathaniel together.”

“So, this Nathaniel,” started Nicky, “do you know him in the biblical sense?”

Kevin twitched a little. He didn’t think there was an exact description for his relationship with Nathaniel; English didn’t have a precise word to describe a relationship that involved cheerfully playing exy together followed by watching the other person’s father cheerfully dismember someone. Maybe there was a word in German. “I haven’t thought of him since I was ten,” he hedged.

“Did you think of him a lot when you were ten?” pressed Nicky.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Thinking about him is bringing up a whole host of childhood issues.”

“Look, we all have childhood issues, okay?” said Nicky. “Believe me, I got the full subscription. I have horror stories!”

“We were forced to watch his father murder someone in front of us when he was eight and I was ten,” said Kevin dully.

Nicky winced. “Well, maybe my horror stories aren’t as filled with horror as yours…” he allowed.

“Are you going to be able to handle talking to your childhood friend?” asked Andrew. “I don’t want you getting your emotions all over me.”

“I haven’t seen him in almost fifteen years,” said Kevin. “Sure, we were close for a time when I was ten, but that was a long time ago. I’ll be fine.” He was suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia for his old friend.

The facts were these: Nathaniel Wesninski was 23 years, 1 month, 18 days, 19 hours, and 10 minutes old when his tragic young life was cut short. A runaway and a liar, he had spent more than half of his life hidden away from the world by his mother. Nathaniel was never sure why his mother had waited so long before escaping from his father. He supposed that his life with her was preferable to staying in his father’s house, but that wasn’t a high bar to cross. His mother had been paranoid with the belief that Nathan would find her and Nathaniel one day and so had kept the two of them moving from place to place and constantly changing identities. Young Nathaniel was not allowed out of their current lodgings, nor was he allowed to interact with other people. In fact, the last person Nathaniel had interacted with with any regularity was Kevin Day, who he still considered to be his closest friend. This complete dependence on his mother that Mary Wesninski had cultivated in her son left him at a disadvantage when she had died suddenly after an altercation with her husband. Nathaniel had drifted after her death, having access to the millions that she had stolen from his father, but not having many interpersonal skills. He had not been overly surprised to find himself being suffocated with a plastic bag; he was obviously useless without his mother.

His life had led him here: dead in the morgue, the scars that he had taken so many precautions to hide exposed to the world; alone.

Kevin and Andrew made their way into the county coroner’s office. Their trips here had become common since the beginning of their partnership. Kevin had been surprised the first time they’d come to find a clone of Andrew’s working in the building. Aaron Minyard had decided to become a forensic pathologist as soon as he realized that all his patients would be dead and he wouldn’t be expected to have a good bedside manner or make small talk with them. He was suspicious about Andrew’s sudden interest in crime solving, but, as he mostly pretended that he didn’t care for his brother, he couldn’t ask about it.

“We’re here to examine Nathaniel Wesninski,” Kevin told Aaron.

“Mmm-hmm,” Aaron replied. Somehow he managed to sound both judgmental and indifferent. “You’re too late. He’s down in the incinerator room. The examination is complete and his father didn’t want the body.”

Kevin swore and sprinted down the hall towards the incinerator room. Andrew followed at a much more sedate pace; when he reached the room, Kevin was slipping cash to the technician in order for him to delay and give the two of them time with the body before it was reduced to ashes.

Andrew looked in interest at the body laying on the metal slab before him. It had obviously been maltreated while alive, the scars across the torso both numerous and severe. Kevin ushered the technician out the the room, Andrew started the one minute timer on his phone and then poked Nathaniel Wesninski’s hand. Nathaniel reacted instantly. He scrambled up from the table and made a run for it. Andrew grabbed the nearest thing - a metal bar of some kind - and took a swing at the fleeing man. He connected roughly with Nathaniel’s stomach and he doubled over and fell. Wheezing he turned to glare up at Andrew, ice blue eyes prominent from beneath badly dyed black hair.

“Nathaniel calm down,” said Kevin. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Nathaniel looked over at Kevin when he spoke, obviously not having noticed him before this moment. He blinked in recognition and disbelief. “Kevin?” he said, his voice hoarse. “I was… there was a plastic bag over my head and I couldn’t breathe… oh,” he said in realization. “Oh. I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” Kevin told him.

“I can’t believe that Kevin Day and an angry midget are my welcoming committee in…” he looked around. “Wait, which one is this?” he asked.

“Purgatory,” said Andrew flatly.

“Figures,” sniffed Nathaniel. “Are you dead, too?” he asked Kevin.

“No,” said Kevin. “Look, Nathaniel-”

“I’d really prefer to be called Neil,” said Neil. “Since this is for eternity and all.”

“Neil,” corrected Kevin. “Do you know who killed you?”

“Nope,” said Neil easily, sitting up now and examining his torso. He grimaced. “Couldn’t these have been erased now that I’m dead? Also, I’m finding it a little awkward that I’m naked. Shouldn’t I be able to manifest clothing?”

“Neil, we’re trying to solve your murder,” said Kevin impatiently.

“Well, I can’t tell you much,” replied Neil. “There was a man in a black ski mask who said ‘Riko Moriyama sends his regards’, then there was a bag over my head; I struggled, but then boom! Dead.”

Kevin’s face went white at the mention of Riko.

“Ten seconds,” Andrew warned him, moving towards where Neil was sitting. Kevin reacted instinctively. He blocked Andrew’s access.

“No,” he hissed. “We have to find out what he knows about Riko.”

“Not much, to be honest,” said Neil. “I haven’t seen or heard anything about him since we last played exy together when I was eight.” He gave a half-smile. “You know, it’s pretty refreshing that I can be honest now that I’m dead.”

“Let go of me,” Andrew growled at Kevin, who was holding him back from sending Neil back to death. Just then Andrew’s alarm went off. He pushed Kevin away from him roughly and waited for him to fall over dead, which would serve him right from preventing Andrew from re-deading Neil. Nothing happened.

“Do you know what you just did?” Andrew asked Kevin in a dangerous voice. The answer was, of course, no, since Andrew had never bothered to explain the rules of his power to Kevin. Kevin would have never kept Neil alive if he’d known there was a possibility that it could result in his own death.

“We need him right now,” Kevin argued, oblivious to the close brush with death that he had just undergone. “If Riko is up to something, we need answers.”

“And who says Dead Boy here is going to help you?”

“I mean, I _would_ like to know why Riko felt it necessary to have me killed,” said Neil from where he was watching their conversation like a tennis match, his arms crossed uncomfortably across his chest. “And probably thank him since getting suffocated was a much cleaner and quicker way of dying than I’d thought I’d get.” He paused thoughtfully. “And then revenge-kill him.”

Andrew gave up trying to talk sense into Kevin and began thinking of damage control. His power couldn’t be widely discovered; that would only led to exploitation and captivity by authorities. And they might do something to Aaron… Andrew suddenly realized that Aaron was in the building and may have paid the price for Neil’s continued survival. It would be smartest to just kill Neil again, but Kevin would sulk and he, too, was curious as to what the Moriyamas were up to. Besides, the price for his continued survival had already been paid; if Aaron had been the one to pay it then Andrew would kill Kevin in retaliation but Andrew didn’t care much about anyone else.

“We have to get out of here before anyone finds him,” Andrew said. “Find him something to wear; he can’t be walking around naked.”

“I would prefer that,” agreed Neil.

“Wait here,” Kevin told him. He came back shortly with a set of scrubs which Neil pulled on. He also gave Neil his own hoodie to help hide his face. Considering that Kevin had almost a foot of height on Neil, who was only a couple inches taller than Andrew’s five feet, the hoodie swamped him completely.

“It’s strange,” Kevin said thoughtfully as the three of them crept out of the incinerator room. “I didn’t see the technician anywhere.” It was not actually strange. The technician had been the one who had given his life in exchange for Neil’s, but Kevin didn’t know that yet.

Andrew and Kevin checked in on Aaron on their way out; Neil stayed out of sight.

“We were too late, you were right,” said Kevin hurriedly. “The body was already incinerated. Nathaniel Wesninski is nothing but ashes. Do you happen to have his personal effects?”

Aaron tapped a couple keys on his computer. “The system doesn’t have any possessions logged, so he didn’t come in with anything; the police might have something,” answered Aaron.

“Alright, then, see you later,” said Kevin, ushering Andrew out of the room and blocking Aaron’s view of the hallway.

“Mmm-hmm,” said Aaron.

It wasn’t until they were back in the car - Andrew driving erratically and Kevin in the passenger seat - that Neil spoke up from the back seat.

“I’m not really sure what’s happening,” he said.

Andrew made an angry hand gesture at Kevin as if to say ‘you explain it’.

“You were dead,” Kevin said.

“I got that part,” said Neil dryly.

“But my associate here has a unique power and he was able to… reverse your death.”

“So this isn’t the afterlife? This is just regular, crappy alive-life all over again?”

“Yes,” said Kevin. “See, I’m a private investigator,” he explained, “and Andrew and I work together to solve murders for monetary rewards… which sounds more mercenary than I’d realized now that I say it out loud.”

“Why would you care about my death, then?” asked Neil. “No one would possibly give you a reward.”

“Your father is interested to know who killed you,” said Andrew.

Neil paled and looked at the car door as if he was deciding whether to risk jumping out of it or not. That was, in fact, exactly what he was doing. “My father knows I’m here?” his voice shook as he asked the question. “I changed my mind. I don’t care why Riko killed me, I need to get far, far away.”

“Your father thinks you’re dead,” Kevin pointed out. “He saw your corpse. He isn’t looking for you. You’ve already said that you’re going to help us solve your murder so you’re not leaving town.”

Neil silently digested this. “Question,” he said. “If Andrew can just bring people back to life willy-nilly, how many people other than me are walking around that are supposed to be dead?”

“Zero,” said Andrew shortly, blatantly lying. No one knew about Aaron’s resurrection - including Aaron, who had been rather out of it at the time - and, if Andrew got his wish, no one was ever going to.

“Why not?” asked Neil.

“Consequences,” replied Andrew.

“Consequences?” repeated Kevin. “What consequences? You never said anything about consequences!”

“I told you that I have to re-dead them before one minute passes,” said Andrew irritably.

“Sorry, re-dead?” asked Neil.

“If he touches someone after he’s brought them back then they die again, forever,” said Kevin over his shoulder distractedly. “But let’s go back to the consequences.”

“No, let’s stick to this topic for now,” said Neil urgently. “Are you telling me that if Andrew touches me ever again I’ll be dead for good? That he just has to brush his skin against mine and I’ll drop dead again?”

“Yes,” said Kevin, now sounding annoyed. “Andrew. _Consequences_?!”

Neil pressed himself against his car door as far away from Andrew as possible. “The thing I’m most in danger from is his skin?” he asked in disbelief. “I’m definitely going far, far away.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Andrew. “If you try, I _will_ kill you again. Known dead people can’t be wandering around alive and well. And _yes_ , Kevin,” he continued, “consequences. Because you kept Neil alive past the one minute mark someone else had to die.”

There was quiet in the car for about ten seconds.

“Who?” Kevin asked. “Who died in his place?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Andrew. “It’s a random proximity thing.”

Kevin looked shocked and insulted. “ _I_ was in proximity,” he said in a high pitched voice.

“Then you shouldn’t have ignored what I told you,” said Andrew curtly. “This is completely, inarguably one hundred percent your fault.”

“I, for one, do not care that someone had to die for me to be alive,” said Neil from the back seat.

“Your apathy does not bode well for your mental well-being,” said Andrew.

“What knowledge, exactly, do you have about me that made you think that I was mentally healthy in the first place?” asked Neil. He paused. “You know, I’m really enjoying this honesty; maybe I’ll stick with it.”

“You’re not actually dead anymore,” said Kevin faintly, still not recovered from learning about his almost fate.

Neil shrugged. “Being a liar didn’t save me last time, maybe for this second chance at life I’ll try something new. Guess what everyone? I’m _not_ fine.”

“If you want to keep your second chance at life then you’ll learn to do as I say,” said Andrew.

“Okay,” said Neil. “I mean, to be honest with you that’s probably not going to happen, but we can pretend it might.”

“You’re taking this whole ‘I’m dead’ thing very calmly,” remarked Kevin.

“I’m actually more surprised that I lived as long as I did,” said Neil. “And that it wasn’t my father that killed me; it was an enemy that I didn’t even know I had.”

“You must have known that the Moriyamas wanted you dead,” said Kevin.

“No?” said Neil. “Why would they?”

“Your father works for the Moriyamas,” said Kevin slowly.

“Does he?” asked Neil. “I guess that makes sense. So then why is he offering a reward to find my killer if Riko was responsible?”

“That’s what we have to find out,” said Kevin grimly.

The Maserati screeched into its parking spot outside of Go Pie. “Get out,” Andrew commanded.

Neil was visibly confused about why they were stopping at a pie shop, so Kevin explained in an undertone about Andrew’s day job. Nicky greeted the three of them enthusiastically when they entered but did a double take at the sight of Neil.

“That’s strange,” he said. “You look just like that kid whose murder these two were investigating.”

“I’d say he looks exactly like that dead kid,” said Andrew. “Nicky, this is Neil; he’s a zombie.”

Nicky winced. “I feel that the word ‘zombie’ is disrespectful,” he said.

“Undead?” suggested Neil.

“No one wants to be ‘un’ anything,” said Nicky. “Starting with a negative is silly. I’ll just call you alive again.”

“Well, that’s me,” said Neil. “Neil Josten, alive again.”

Nicky looked confused. “I thought it was Nathaniel Wesninski?” he asked.

Neil flinched. “My ID says Neil Josten.”

“You don’t have ID,” said Andrew. “Or possessions or a bank account or anything. You’re dead. Which reminds me,” he continued, “Nicky, I’m putting you in charge of buying Dead Boy here a wardrobe. Take this afternoon off to get it done.”

Nicky smiled happily. “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun dressing you up like a doll.”

“Uh…” said Neil.

“He can’t go with you,” said Kevin. “His face was in today’s paper; he can’t go out into public.”

“No one reads the paper, grandpa,” Nicky scoffed.

“Anything he costs us is coming out of your share of the money,” Andrew warned Kevin.

“I have money,” said Neil. “Or, at least, I know where my mother hid quite a bit of cash. I’m not completely helpless and reliant on you.”

“Good,” said Andrew. “Then you can pay for your upkeep. You’ll be staying with me.”

“What?” asked Kevin. “I thought he’d be staying with me.”

“I’m not staying with someone who can kill me with accidental contact,” said Neil.

“You’re staying where I can keep an eye on you,” said Andrew. “You’re nothing but trouble and I don’t trust Kevin to watch you properly.”

“I’m not an infant,” said Neil. “I don’t need to be watched.”

“You are a complication and you _definitely_ need to be watched,” said Andrew. “Your very existence threatens the life that I have built for myself, so: yes, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“You know, I don’t think I like you very much,” said Neil.

“The feeling is mutual,” said Andrew.

“How do I know that you won’t kill me as soon as you have a chance?” asked Neil.

“I’ll make you a deal,” said Andrew. “You promise not to run away - you stay here and don’t draw attention to yourself - and I won’t re-dead you.”

“You can’t keep me here forever,” said Neil.

“Then stay for at least a year,” said Andrew. “Until Nathaniel Wesninski is forgotten and we’ve dealt with the Moriyamas and your father and there’s less of a chance that anybody will ever recognize you.”

“Fine,” said Neil. “We have a deal. I’ll stay in exchange for being kept alive.” He turned to Nicky. “I want lots of hoodies,” he requested. “I want to be able to cover as much skin as possible. There will be no accidental skin contact.”

“I don’t have accidents,” said Andrew. "I don't want to touch you, either."

“Maybe you’ll forgive me for not wanting to take any chances.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

Neil glared at Andrew, who glared back. As they glared at each other inside of a pie shop, Andrew and Neil didn’t know what was in store for them. They had both just settled on an agreement that would affect them for the rest of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I'll be alternating posting new chapters of this with new one-shots in my Brooklyn Nine-Nine series.


	2. The Death of Stephanie Walker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Renee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I am so in love with this fic. Anyway, I want you to imagine that Neil is swamped in a hoodie throughout the rest of this story, unless otherwise specified. 
> 
> Also, we're totally going to ignore the fact that Aaron is _way_ too young to be a coroner. Let's assume he was a prodigy that finished university and medical school super quickly and he's now in the first year of his residency with the medical examiner at the coroner's office.

It was 20 hours and 21 minutes since Andrew Minyard had touched Neil Josten and brought him a second life and they, along with Kevin Day, were sitting around a table at Andrew’s pie shop to discuss their next actions. Neil was dressed in clothes that fit him, courtesy of Nicky, although he was still wearing a large hoodie. The sleeves were long enough that he pulled them over his hands, making sweater paws, and he kept the hood pulled up, both to hide his face from anyone who might recognize him and to present the least amount of skin as possible. Nicky had also cut and dyed his hair (a shade of brown so close to Neil’s natural auburn that he couldn’t bring himself to look in the mirror) the night before so that he didn’t closely resemble the picture of himself that had been printed in the paper.

Andrew methodically ate his morning slice of pie (strawberry rhubarb) as Kevin made plans.

“The first order of business is to recover the money that your mother hid,” Kevin said to Neil. “We’re a little low on petty cash.”

“I’m not giving you my money,” said Neil. “I’ll pay for my living expenses, but my money hasn’t magically become ‘our’ money.”

“Whatever,” said Kevin. “We still need to go get it.”

“I’ll need my binder for that,” said Neil. “It’s full of coded instructions to hiding locations.”

“And where is this binder?” asked Kevin.

Neil shrugged. “It was in my duffel bag that I keep with me at all times. I don’t know what happened to it after I died.”

“Then either the cops have it, or your killer does, or it hasn’t been moved from where you left it,” said Kevin.

“I was squatting in a house in the east end of town,” said Neil. “It’s in a fairly wealthy neighbourhood but the owners are somewhere warmer for the winter. My killer broke in and killed me there.”

“Okay,” said Kevin. “I’ll call my contact with the police to see if they have your duffel and we can go check out the crime scene, see if we can find anything.”

Kevin and Neil got up to head out but Kevin stopped in confusion when Andrew didn’t follow.

“I have an actual business to run, Kevin,” said Andrew. “It doesn’t sound like you need my special skills for this particular outing. Make sure you don’t dent Dead Boy; I promised we’d keep him alive.”

“I’m not sure that constantly using a nickname that refers to my state of living, or un-living as it were, is overly stealthy,” said Neil. “You’re the one who said we needed to exercise caution so that nobody finds out about your power.”

Andrew flicked his fingers dismissively to cover for the fact that he didn’t want to acknowledge that Neil had made a good point.

“But…” said Kevin, looking back and forth between Andrew and the exit. “Who is going to drive?”

Andrew looked at Kevin without expression. “Take your own car,” he said.

“I’ll lose my parking spot,” Kevin pouted. “You _know_ that street parking is hard to come by around here.”

“I absolutely do not care,” said Andrew, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Kevin huffed in displeasure and stomped out of the pie shop.

Kevin and Neil slunk dejectedly back into the pie shop 3 hours and 13 minutes later. They had been completely unsuccessful in recovering Neil’s duffel bag, meaning that either Neil’s killer or his killer’s employer were now in possession of his binder. Also, Kevin had had to park his car four streets away in a 90 minute parking zone. He was vexed.

They sat at a booth and accepted coffee and pie from Nicky.

“What can you tell me about your killer?” Kevin asked.

“Well, he - and I’m assuming he’s male based on physique and the timbre of his voice - was quite a bit taller than me and had a preference for wearing all black and covering up all his distinctive features.”

“So: most likely a man who is taller than you,” grumbled Kevin. “That’s less helpful than you seem to think it is.”

“Negatively helpful, then? I didn’t think it was helpful at all,” replied Neil. “Although, we have ruled out Andrew.”

“What didn’t I do?” asked Andrew, appearing at the side of the table and pushing on Kevin’s shoulder until he slid over to allow Andrew to sit.

“Kill me,” supplied Neil.

“Not yet,” said Andrew darkly.

“The first time,” clarified Neil.

“Excuse me,” said a soft voice from nearby. The three of them turned to look at the newcomer. She was short, only about an inch taller than Neil, with black hair cut into a bob and almond-shaped eyes that were so dark brown they were almost black. She was dressed conservatively and wore a gold cross necklace that she twisted nervously in her fingers. That was just the surface, though. Neil and Andrew’s hackles were instantly raised by the subtle knife-scarring on her knuckles and the calculating look in her dark eyes. “Are you Kevin Day, the private investigator?” she asked.

“Yes…?” answered Kevin, making it a question. “I mean: yes. I am. Can I help you?”

“I hope so,” she said, sitting down beside Neil. He scooched away from her along the bench, watching her distrustfully as if she were a poisonous snake. “I was referred to you by David Wymack. My mother has been murdered and the police have no leads.”

The facts were these: Stephanie Walker, 53 years, 11 months, 1 day, 18 hours, and 35 minutes old, was found suffocated and stuffed into a dumpster near the house where Neil had been squatting the day after his death. She had been dead for almost 24 hours when she was found. She was a missionary, in town with her daughter, Renee, to raise money to build houses for the less fortunate. Stephanie had no known enemies and the police had dismissed the murder as a case of robbery: of Stephanie being in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, Stephanie was not carrying anything of value; she had hidden the money they had raised and not even Renee knew its location.

“I can’t pay you until the money is found,” said Renee earnestly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But if you could search for the money while you’re looking into my mother’s death I would be forever grateful.”

Neil felt that something was off about the whole story, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what. Instead he thought about the likelihood of someone else being killed in the same way that he had been in the same neighbourhood on the same day. He did not believe in coincidences; somehow Stephanie Walker’s murder was related to his own.

“It’s stupid to bring him here,” Kevin grumbled to Andrew as they walked into the coroner’s office. “He was just in here yesterday.”

Neil had borrowed a pair of oversized sunglasses from Nicky to complete his cunning disguise.

Andrew shrugged. “It’s not like we can leave him unattended,” he said reasonably. “He’s a runner.”

“I can’t go anywhere without my binder,” said Neil peevishly. “And it sounds like it might be the same guy who murdered both me and this woman so I have an interest in finding him.”

Andrew hummed. “What did you think of the daughter?”

“I think she’s a liar,” said Neil.

“Takes one to know one,” said Andrew. “Though I agree that she’s a dangerous animal.”

“Takes one to know one,” Neil echoed snidely.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked. “Renee? She’s sweet.”

Neil scoffed. “Aren’t you investigators supposed to be good at noticing things?”

Kevin shot him an unhappy look and shushed him as they approached Aaron’s office. “We’re here to see Stephanie Walker,” he told Aaron.

“Who is he?” asked Aaron, jabbing his thumb in Neil’s direction.

“He’s… a specialist,” said Kevin.

“What does he specialize in?” asked Aaron.

“Crime,” said Neil.

“Mmm-hmm,” replied Aaron, unimpressed, but dismissed them into the morgue anyway.

“Did you notice that the coroner looks suspiciously like you?” Neil muttered to Andrew as they searched for the drawer where Stephanie Walker’s body was being kept.

“You’re very astute,” said Andrew.

“I’ll bet Mr. She-Seems-Sweet over there didn’t notice.”

“Shut it,” said Kevin, pulling out the correct drawer. The three of them looked down at the body.

“Huh,” said Neil. “She looks very dead. This is what I looked like yesterday?”

“Well, you weren’t a white female in her fifties, but basically yes,” replied Kevin.

Andrew touched her hand and she gasped for breath before sitting up. Luckily, she got a hand up to grasp the sheet that was covering her before it could slip down too far. “What…?”

“You’re dead,” said Andrew flatly. “Tell us who killed you.”

“I’m…” Stephanie looked around curiously.

“On the bright side, you can be completely honest,” said Neil. “Since you’re dead and all. It’s pretty great.”

“Renee asked us to look into your murder,” explained Kevin.

“Renee?” echoed Stephanie.

“Your daughter?” said Kevin.

“Oh! Yes, of course,” said Stephanie. “The person who killed me was wearing a ski mask so I couldn’t distinguish any features.”

“You didn’t see or hear anything?” asked Kevin.

“No,” confirmed Stephanie.

“Why would they want to kill you?” asked Neil.

“A lot of people do,” said Stephanie chuckling. “Although I’m guessing the actual motive was that I’d just mistakenly witnessed him suffocating someone else.”

“You… what?” said Neil.

“He caught me watching him kill someone and then he chased me down and suffocated me, too.”

“Where did you hide the money that you’ve been raising for charity?” asked Kevin.

Stephanie laughed a little more openly. “Yes, my darling daughter would want to know that, wouldn’t she?” she said, mostly to herself. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to tell you, since I am dead now.”

“Ten seconds,” Andrew said in an undertone.

“I hid it at Blind Mark’s house,” said Stephanie before Andrew touched her hand again and she resumed being dead.

“Blind Mark?” said Kevin. “Sounds ableist.”

Neil was looking at Stephanie’s dead body with a complicated expression on his face. “I think I’m starting to freak out a little about the whole being dead thing,” he said in a strangled voice.

Andrew waved his hand in Neil’s line of sight, between his eyes and the dead woman. Neil flinched back from Andrew’s bare hand violently.

“We don’t have time for your issues right now,” said Andrew. “You can fall apart once we’re back in the car.”

Neil took a couple deep breaths and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I’m a master at repression. I can do this.”

“Still being honest, then?” asked Kevin.

“Yes,” said Neil. “Your face tattoo is stupid.”

“Stop acting like a child,” said Kevin.

“I mean… he has a point,” said Andrew.

Kevin glared. “We have to go talk to Renee again,” he said loftily, trying to take the high road. “She clearly lied to us.”

“But how can we reveal what we know without telling her we woke up her dead mother to have a chat?” asked Neil.

“We’ll just have to be circumspect,” said Kevin pompously.

* * *

“We have reason to believe that your mother was killed because she witnessed a murder,” said Kevin.

“Oh!” said Renee, startled. “Really?”

“You find that surprising?” asked Andrew. “What were you expecting?”

“I would think that anyone would be shocked to learn that their loved one had witnessed a murder,” said Renee placidly. “I’m also wondering why the police weren’t able to connect to two deaths.”

“Well, the police in this town are… how to put this tactfully…” said Kevin.

“Lazy and corrupt,” said Andrew. “The first death was linked to the Moriyamas, you can bet that the police will never find any information about it.”

“The Moriyamas,” said Renee thoughtfully, a dark look in her eyes. “Also, I hate to sound insensitive, but did you happen to find where my mother hid the money? A lot of children will be homeless without it.”

“She said she left it with her friend Mark,” said Kevin. Andrew kicked him.

“She said?” asked Renee.

“Kevin here likes to pretend that the ghost of the deceased is helping us,” said Neil. “He ‘speaks’ with them as he examines clues.”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Kevin, nodding jerkily. “I’m sorry if that’s disrespectful. I meant that we found evidence that she left it at the house of a man named Mark.”

Renee’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know anyone named Mark; I can’t even think of anyone other than me that she would trust enough to hold onto the money. What evidence did you find?”

“Oh, you know,” said Kevin vaguely. “Some pretty conclusive stuff.”

“Right,” said Renee, suspiciously.

“We’ll let you know if we find anything more,” said Kevin quickly.

Once Renee had left the pie shop, Andrew gave Kevin a completely deadpan look.

Kevin held up a hand. “Don’t say anything,” he said.

“That _was_ pretty circumspect,” said Neil. “Can one of you tell me again how nobody knows about Andrew’s ability? Is it that everyone you interact with is a moron? Because otherwise I do not understand how Kevin’s complete inability to lie hasn’t ruined everything for you yet.”

“I’m usually better than this,” said Kevin. “You being here is throwing me off.”

“Oh, is my murder inconveniencing you?” asked Neil sardonically. “I didn’t even say anything until _someone_ had to come up with a reason that you mentioned talking to a dead woman.”

“Way to go, Pinocchio,” said Andrew dryly. “A-plus lying.” He gave Neil a two-fingered salute.

Neil rolled his eyes. “Well since Renee doesn’t know Mark, we are again with a complete absence of clues.”

Kevin huffed. “We are not playing a board game. Colonel Mustard didn’t kill you with a candlestick in the billiard room. We don’t find _clues_. We find evidence.”

“And we have none,” said Neil, before cocking his head and staring into the middle distance. “You know,” he said slowly, “there’s a man who is blind that lives a couple blocks away from where I was squatting. He sits on his porch wearing sunglasses and holding a white cane and yelling at anyone he feels is making too much noise.”

“Is his name Mark?” asked Kevin with interest.

“How would I know his name Kevin?” asked Neil in exasperation. “Do I strike you as particularly likely to make friends with the neighbours?”

Andrew shrugged. “Worth checking out, I guess. We’ll go tonight. Right now I have pies to bake.”

* * *

The plan was simple: Neil and Kevin would speak with the blind man while Andrew searched his house for the hidden money. It seemed easier than actually asking to search the man’s house.

“Sir,” Kevin said politely, “we are canvassing the neighbourhood to find out if anyone saw anything suspicious on the night of March 9, when two people were suffocated near here.”

The man snorted. “You asking if I _saw_ anything, boy?” he said gruffly.

“Or heard anything,” said Neil, cutting off Kevin’s horrified stuttering.

The man cocked his head. “I’ve heard that voice before,” he said. “You’re the kid that goes running by here every morning and evening like clockwork. I thought you were the one who was killed.”

Neil felt strangled. “No, sir,” he managed to choke out. He’d been of the opinion that nobody knew or remembered him, but here was evidence that _a blind man_ could recognize him. Perhaps he was not as talented at not drawing attention to himself as he had thought.

“Where have you been the since the 9th, then?” asked the man.

“I got a new job,” Neil said, deciding that now was not the time to be completely honest, “and moved in with a friend across town.”

“We’re actually more interested in the other victim, Stephanie Walker,” said Kevin.

“She was a real nice lady,” said the man. “It’s a shame what happened to her. She’s been visiting with me for several weeks now, and I’ll miss her company. I was showing her my baseball card collection.”

“Is your name Mark?” asked Kevin.

“No,” said the man, taken aback. “It’s Carlos. Carlos Hernandez. Why do you ask?”

There was a crash from the back of the house. “Is there someone else here?” Carlos asked.

“It’s probably just raccoons,” said Neil, quickly. “I’ll go check it out.”

"Why would it be raccoons?" asked Carlos, sounding worried.

It was not raccoons. The scene that Neil walked in on was very unexpected. Andrew, dressed all in black, was in a fight with two other people, both of whom were also dressed all in black clothing and wearing ski masks. One of the figures was barely taller than Neil and appeared female while the other was much larger and male. The small masked figure moved like a whirlwind, slashing knives at the larger masked figure who was fending her off while trying to get at the bag of money that Andrew had found in the house. He got in a lucky hit on the woman who was flung backwards and hit the doorframe, hard. She slumped to the floor. Successful, the masked man grabbed Andrew, pushed him against the wall and forced a plastic bag over his head.

Neil picked up the closest thing that could be used as a weapon, a fire poker, and smashed it into the back of the masked man’s head.

He whirled, letting Andrew go. Andrew fell to the floor, clutching at his throat and wheezing.

“Didn’t I kill you?” the masked man asked Neil in confusion. He took a menacing step towards Neil.

“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?” Carlos’ voice shouted, followed by the blast of a shotgun. The masked man was caught by the bullet that luckily missed both Andrew and Neil.

“Why are you shooting, you _can’t see_!” Kevin’s enraged voice came from farther down the hallway.

“I can see light and shadow. I shot towards the shadow,” defended Carlos. “I didn’t hit your friend, did I?”

“It was not raccoons,” Neil said breathlessly. “You shot an intruder. Kevin, call the police.”

Kevin dragged Carlos bodily away from the room, loudly berating him. "Put that gun _down_!" he commanded.

"I have a right to defend my home," argued Carlos.

Andrew got up and removed the dead man’s mask; it was no one Neil recognized. Andrew poked his cheek.

The man looked around in confusion and then down at the gaping hole where he’d been shot. “What…?”

“Where’s my duffel bag?” asked Neil.

“Why do I have a hole in me?” the man asked, panicked.

“You’ve been shot,” said Neil. “Tell me where my duffel is and I’ll get you medical attention.”

“I didn’t take it,” said the man. “I was supposed to dump your body and grab your stuff but there was a witness. I had to chase her down and dispose of her. By the time I got back to you, your body had already been discovered and the police were crawling all over the scene.”

Andrew tapped his hand and then he was dead once more.

Neil went over to unmask the woman. It was Renee. She stirred when he removed her mask and then he suddenly found himself at the sharp end of a knife. He breathed in very carefully. Renee surveyed the scene and tilted her head slightly, listening to the approaching sound of sirens. She pushed Neil away from her, before leaving the house quickly and soundlessly. Andrew, meanwhile, had picked up the bag of money that he had found before being attacked. He nodded his head towards the back entrance and he and Neil slipped out of the house before the police could arrive.

“I don’t need your protection,” said Andrew.

Neil shrugged. “If you die, there’s no magic pie maker to bring you back,” he said. “Besides, I didn’t like being in your debt. Now we’re even.”

“Are we?” asked Andrew.

“You saved my life, I saved yours,” said Neil. “Seems like we’re pretty even.”

“We’ll see,” said Andrew shortly.

* * *

It was late before Kevin was able to extricate himself from the police and return to Go Pie. Andrew and Neil were sitting in the closed shop counting the several hundred thousands dollars in cash sitting on the table between them.

“How much is there?” asked Kevin wearily.

“Not sure yet,” said Neil.

“Bigger than a breadbox, smaller than a house,” said Andrew.

“What happened?” Kevin asked Andrew.

“The big one attacked me as soon as I found the money,” said Andrew. “He took me by surprise but then Renee showed up and started slashing him with her knives.”

“She must have followed us after Kevin’s unconvincing lies,” said Neil. He turned to Kevin. “Did the police identify the masked guy?”

Kevin shook his head. “They didn’t have to; I knew him. Luke Herrera. He has ties to the Moriyamas.”

“Did you find any hint as to where my binder is?” asked Neil. “The police should have it.”

“No,” said Kevin. “At least we have this money, though.”

“Ah, but that money is not yours,” said a soft voice from the shadows at the back of the shop. They all jumped and turned as Renee stalked towards them.

“I don’t think it’s yours either, _Renee_ ,” said Andrew.

She gave a slight smile. “No,” she said. “But my mother and I did work for it.”

The facts were these: Renee Walker, 28 years, 5 months, 15 days, and 23 hours old, was not actually named Renee Walker. She’d been born as Natalie Shields, poor in Detroit with an addict mother who had a string of heavy handed boyfriends. She grew up lying and stealing. When she was 9 years, 2 months, 14 hours, and 25 minutes old she had tried to pick the pocket of an accomplished thief. Instead of becoming angry, the thief had recognized her talent and, after learning of her home life, had taken her with her when she’d left town. Together, the two of them had travelled across the country, conning people out of their hard earned money, changing identities like most people changed pants, stealing for a living. In each new city one of them would hide their bag of emergency cash while the other hid their numerous fake IDs and contact information for people who could make them more. That way, it was impossible for the two of them to double cross each other.

“She called me last week,” said Renee, “to tell me that she’d found a big mark here. Something about mint condition baseball cards?”

“She was stealing from a blind man?” asked Kevin incredulously. “Wait, she was stealing from a _blind mark_.”

“We’re thieves,” said Renee. “We’re not exactly super moral.”

“What are you going to do now?” Andrew asked.

Renee shrugged. “Move on, I guess,” she said sadly. “It’ll be lonely without Ma. It’s too bad I can’t stay here for longer. I like being Renee. She’s sweet, a good person.”

“Told you,” muttered Kevin.

“You could stay,” said Neil.

“My pie shop is not a halfway house for lying runaways,” said Andrew.

“Why would I stay?” asked Renee. “You lied to me and tried to steal my money and I just revealed that I’m a thief and a conwoman. There’s not exactly a lot of trust between us.”

“Sure, we have secrets,” said Neil. “Who doesn’t? Our lies were for our own protection, not to mislead you. And we didn’t try to steal your money; you hired us to help recover it.” He waved his hand at the money on the table. “Money: recovered.”

“Your mother is dead because of the Moriyamas,” added Andrew. “You seem like a woman who would want revenge and who is capable of getting it. As long as you’re against the Moriyamas, we don’t need trust between us. We’re going after Riko.” He paused. “I hesitate to say it, but you’d be a useful asset to have on our side.”

Renee was thoughtful for a time. “I’ll think about it,” she said, standing and scooping the money back into its bag.

Kevin blocked her access to several wads of cash. “You still owe us for solving the murder and finding the money,” he said. “I’m also claiming hazard pay. A blind man shot a gun at my associates.”

Renee smiled indulgently and let him keep the money. “Think of it as a gesture of goodwill,” she said, before she disappeared back into the shadows.

“Do you think we’ll ever see her again?” asked Kevin.

“No,” snorted Andrew. “She’s long gone.”

He was wrong. Renee Walker was going to keep her name and stick around. In fact, she was going to be their very first ally and be instrumental in the eventual defeat of Riko Moriyama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a "getting the gang together" fic. Each chapter will introduce one or more new characters who have a reason to hate Riko.


	3. The Death of Seth Gordon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Allison.

1 day, 9 hours, and 13 minutes after Renee Walker had waltzed out of Go Pie she waltzed right back in to join Andrew, Neil, and Kevin for morning pie (cherry). Her hair had become bright white in the day she’d been gone, with alternating pastel colours dying the tips.

“I’m in,” she said, sliding into the booth next to Neil. “I’ll be part of Team… do you guys have a team name?”

“Oooh, you should have a team name,” said Nicky, as he brought coffee to Renee. “Team Awesome? Team Rocket? Team Pie? The A-team?”

“Detective Kevin Day and his assistants,” said Kevin.

“I think we should be the ‘We Hate Riko Club’,” supplied Neil. “That’s what binds us together, after all.”

“Or Team Revenge,” said Renee.

“No team name,” said Andrew.

Nicky pouted. “You’re no fun,” he said.

“You’re not a part of the team anyway,” said Kevin.

“I bring you coffee and pie and my fabulous presence,” said Nicky. “I am an essential part of the team. Besides, why did these two get to join before I did?” He turned to Renee. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Nicky.”

“I’m Renee,” she answered.

“I love your hair,” said Nicky.

“Thank you,” said Renee demurely.

“It’s very… memorable,” said Neil uncomfortably.

Renee shrugged. “I’m not running a con right now so I can be memorable.” She grinned. “Besides, I feel that my hair now advertises my sexual preferences.”

“Smart,” said Nicky. “Maybe I should do that; how else will anyone know I’m gay?”

“You’re wearing rainbow suspenders,” said Kevin. “And your shirt literally says ‘Sorry Girls, I’m Gay’.”

“I don’t know,” said Nicky, doubtfully. “You don’t think it’s too ambiguous?”

“Nothing about you is ambiguous,” said Andrew.

“Speaking of not being ambiguous,” said Nicky. He pointed at Neil. “Neil. You, me, horizontal tango?”

“I don’t dance,” said Neil, confused.

“He’s asking if you want to have sex with him,” Kevin said in exasperation.

“Oh,” said Neil. “No. I don’t do that.”

“Have sex with men?” asked Nicky.

“Have sex at all.”

“Shame,” said Nicky sadly. “Such a waste.”

“Why?” asked Renee, her sweet tone almost disguising the slight edge in her voice. As a lesbian she had endured enough men telling her that her sexuality was a waste. “Because he’s attractive his only purpose is as a sex object?”

“I am… going to go over there,” said Nicky urgently, pointing to the far side of the shop. “Customers to see to, you know.”

Andrew chewed his pie thoughtfully. “You got rid of Nicky extremely efficiently.” He narrowed his eyes at Renee. “You can stay,” he said, pointing his fork at her. “But you’re not to pry into our secrets and you’re going to teach me to fight with knives.”

“Only if I can name the team,” said Renee.

“Fine,” said Andrew.

“Then I dub us the Queer Avengers,” said Renee.

“We are not calling ourselves that,” said Kevin.

“Why not? We are all queer and we are here for vengeance,” said Renee.

“How do you know we’re all queer?” asked Kevin.

Renee just raised a skeptical eyebrow, gave Kevin a once-over, and ignored him. “I haven’t decided which Avengers you two are yet, but I’m clearly Black Widow and Neil is Captain America, since he’s alive even though everyone thought he died.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Neil.

“Please,” scoffed Renee. “You’re obviously Nathaniel Wesninski; did you think I wouldn’t research the man whose murder my mother witnessed? I still don’t know how you managed to fake your death so convincingly, though.”

“No, I wasn’t arguing with you,” said Neil. “Obviously I… faked my death. I just meant that I have no idea who Black Widow or Captain America are.”

Kevin gave him a considering look. “Rate your pop culture knowledge,” he said.

“Um, low,” said Neil. “Practically non-existent. My mother thought that televisions and computers and cell phones could potentially spy on us.”

“There should be a trombone player that follows you around just to make sad ‘whomp-whomp’ noises every time you say anything about your past,” said Andrew.

Neil momentarily looked annoyed but then his face smoothed in contemplation. “That’s fair,” he conceded.

The door to the pie shop swung open and in walked a glamorous woman. She was wearing a skintight red dress and a white fur coat. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled. Around her throat she was wearing a necklace with a large, pink diamond nestled in her cleavage. She snapped her fingers in Nicky’s direction to get his attention.

“Oh,” said Renee, taking in the newcomer. “I want.”

Andrew turned to look at who Renee was watching. He huffed and turned back around. “The woman or the diamond?” he asked.

Renee gave him a sharp smile. “Why not both?” she asked.

Nicky, looking a little overwhelmed, directed the woman to their table. Her heels clicked confidently as she briskly walked to their table.

“Kevin Day,” she said haughtily.

“Yes?” asked Kevin with confusion.

“I was told that you solve murders when the police are incapable of doing so.”

“Why don’t you sit?” suggested Renee, getting up and offering her own place. The woman gave the booth bench a distasteful look before taking a seat next to Neil. Renee pulled up a chair from a nearby table.

“My boyfriend,” started the woman in a hollow voice, “suddenly died three days ago. The police have ruled it death by natural causes, but I believe that someone is responsible for his death and I won’t stop until I find out who it is.”

The facts were these: Seth Gordon, self-proclaimed former addict and technician at the county coroner’s office, was 29 years, 10 months, 19 days, 16 hours, and 26 minutes old when he suddenly keeled over dead when he was at work. Neil Josten’s second life had begun exactly 1 minute and 1 second before in the room next door. Seth had still been counting the money that Kevin had used to bribe him to leaving Kevin and Andrew alone with the body he was about to incinerate. An autopsy had revealed that Seth’s heart had simply stopped beating for no known reason. His years as a drug addict were blamed for his weak heart. His girlfriend, Allison Jamaica Reynolds, sole heiress to her billionaire parents’ hotel fortune, did not agree with this finding as he had been acting nervous and jittery for weeks prior to his sudden death. Allison possessed millions of disposable income, a stubborn nature, a priceless diamond that she flaunted carelessly in public, an unusual middle name, and a desire for revenge. She wanted Kevin to provide a name of someone who she could visit her vengeance upon. Since it was actually mostly Kevin’s fault - with assists from Andrew because of his magic and from Neil because he was the one who was dead in the first place - he decided to take the case to prevent Allison from hiring someone who could trace the three of them to the coroner’s office at the time of death.

Allison gave Kevin the key to Seth’s apartment, asking him to look for evidence that someone was plotting against him. Renee decided to leave with Allison - offering comfort and companionship during this very difficult time. Renee sent Andrew a thumbs up as she followed Allison out of the pie shop.

“Ten bucks says she returns with a diamond,” said Kevin.

Neil shook his head. “Not until she’s planning on skipping town,” he disagreed. “She’s too noticeable and easy to find, otherwise.” He stretched. “In the meantime, what are we going to do about the guy you accidentally killed using Andrew as a murder weapon?”

“Go to his apartment and look for evidence, I guess,” said Kevin, wincing at Neil’s words. “Come up with some way to explain his erratic behaviour so that Allison might believe that his death was accidental.”

Kevin and Neil got to their feet.

“It turns out you’re less useless than I had originally anticipated,” said Andrew to Neil. Neil wrinkled his brow in confusion: he’d definitely not done anything to impress Andrew recently. “Since you’re a currently dead former vagrant, it’s not like you have anything better to do than to keep Kevin company. At least now I don’t have to follow him around because he doesn’t like being alone.”

“You’re not coming, again?” asked Kevin in annoyance. “And it’s not weird to not like being alone.”

“There are no dead bodies to wake, I have pies to bake, and you have someone else to take,” replied Andrew. “I, in fact, prefer being alone, but there’s currently a pest living in my apartment. Let me have a few hours in peace.”

“I could live with Kevin,” said Neil. “Or, better yet, somewhere else entirely.”

“We’ve been over this,” said Andrew. “You’re not trying to back out of our deal already, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Neil with false sweetness. “Let’s go Kevin.”

Seth’s apartment was small and depressing. The sink was overflowing with dishes, the garbage can was overflowing with garbage, the floor was overflowing with laundry. Drug paraphernalia was scattered around, indicating that Seth was less of a former drug user and more of a current one than Allison had indicated.

Kevin looked disdainfully at the discarded syringes lying around and the large quantity of injectable opioids he found in the fridge. “How did he even afford this?” he asked. “Allison said that she’s been monitoring his cash flow since his last time at rehab which is why she was certain he wasn’t using.”

“Maybe he has another source of income,” said Neil, opening a closet. “Hey!” he cried, reaching out and picking up his duffel bag. “This is mine!” He dug through the bag, looking for his binder. When he didn’t find it, he started searching the apartment. He eventually recovered his binder from under the coffee table. Flipping through it, he found that his coded instructions were all intact, but the cash and bonds were gone. “He robbed me while I was dead!” he exclaimed. “I had over ten thousand dollars in cash in here.”

“Well that explains how he could afford all these drugs,” said Kevin. “I wonder if he’s been doing this for a while. Aaron said that you had no possessions logged in their computer system; maybe Seth’s been stealing from the dead that come into the morgue and changing their records so that nobody knows anything is missing.”

“I am even _less_ sad that he died so that I can live,” said Neil grumpily.

“Stealing from the dead is where you draw the line?” asked Kevin.

“No,” said Neil. “They’re dead, they don’t care. But he stole from _me_.”

* * *

Kevin and Neil returned to Go Pie, Neil clutching his binder possessively against his chest.

“Huh,” said Andrew when he saw it. “That’s unexpected. He robbed your corpse?”

“Apparently,” said Neil, still put out.

“What else did you find?” asked Andrew.

“Mostly drugs,” Kevin responded.

Nicky dropped off a slice of key lime pie at the table for Andrew, but was too busy with other customers to stop and chat.

Neil watching in fascination as Andrew began eating. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been staying with you for three days now and I haven’t seen you eat anything other than pie. How are you alive?”

“Same way as you,” said Andrew.

“Magic?” asked Neil.

“Spite.”

Kevin looked horrified. “You don’t _only_ eat pie, do you? What about vegetables? What about protein?”

“There’s fruit in the pie,” said Andrew dismissively. “Also: eggs. Sometimes cheese. It’s a completely balanced meal.”

“It is _not_ -” Kevin started ranting, before he was cut off by Renee sliding into the booth for the second time that day.

“So…” said Renee with exaggerated slowness, “you guys all went squirrely when Allison told you the time and place her boyfriend died.”

Kevin blanched. “Did she notice?”

“No,” said Renee. “She’s consumed with grief and she’s not as practiced at reading people as I am. There was a reason that I knew that I could tell you who I really am - we’re all the same kind of person.”

“Ruthless abuse victims?” guessed Neil.

Andrew gave him a look. “I am not a victim,” he said.

“Ruthless abuse survivors, then,” corrected Neil.

“What makes you think I was abused at all?” said Andrew.

“Only everything about you,” said Neil. “People don’t maintain a personal bubble as large as yours or defend it like you do after a lifetime of being treated gently. Maybe it’s due to your…” he eyed Renee, then wiggled his fingers at Andrew “...but I doubt it. Like recognizes like, as Renee said.”

“I meant that we’re all bad people trying to be good people,” said Renee.

“I’m a good person,” said Kevin, stung.

“And I don’t care to be,” said Andrew.

Renee gave Andrew a half smile. “Are you lying to me or yourself?” she asked him, before turning to Kevin. “What about the fact that, based on your reaction, you’re responsible for Seth’s death?”

“...It’s not a major loss,” said Kevin, sullenly.

“What are we going to do?” asked Neil. “Allison’s not going to stop looking unless we can offer her someone to blame.”

“Then we have to frame someone,” said Andrew, sounding bored, but was, in fact, trying to prove to Renee that he was in no way a good person and she should shut her mouth about it.

Renee smiled in amusement, seeing through Andrew’s façade. “You should frame Riko,” she said.

Kevin made a sound like a cat dying. “Do not talk of things you don’t understand,” he said harshly. “Riko is not to be trifled with; he will make us regret it.” He held up his scarred left hand, evidence of Riko’s cruelty. Riko had called Kevin his brother when they were growing up, but Kevin had always known that he was Riko’s pet. When Kevin’s obsession with exy had stolen too much of his attention, Riko had acted to permanently prevent Kevin from playing. The event had given Kevin the incentive to leave Riko, finding refuge with his estranged father. “He will kill us all,” said Kevin in warning.

“Being dead isn’t so bad, actually,” said Neil.

“You were the one who insisted that Neil come with us to tell us what Riko was up to,” Andrew reminded Kevin.

“Yeah, so that we could _hide_ from him, not incur his wrath!” argued Kevin.

“I joined you to stop him,” said Renee. “He sent someone to try to kill Neil and my mother ended up as collateral damage. I think that we should frame Riko for Seth’s death and recruit Allison into the Queer Avengers to finance our shared vendetta.”

“We’re still not calling ourselves that,” said Kevin, before accusing, “You just want to keep her around so that you can seduce her and steal her shiny diamond necklace.”

“And get her to pay me for enacting the vengeance that I was already set on getting,” agreed Renee. “Although, I can’t steal the diamond as long as we’re working together. It was pretty tempting though; I could have lifted it off of her at least three times during the time we spent together.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll have a replica made.”

“I thought you were trying to be a good person,” said Kevin waspishly.

Renee shrugged. “Baby steps.” She gave Kevin a level look. “I’m not the one who is planning to frame someone else for a murder I committed.”

Kevin scowled. “It wasn’t a murder. He died accidentally while we were… faking Neil’s death.” He paused for a second. “And it was _your idea_ that we frame Riko.”

“I’m just offering useful solutions,” said Renee. “Riko’s untouchable right now and the Moriyamas have most of the police in their pockets. If you start piling up evidence against him - say, every death you investigate that turns out to be accidental you pin on him instead - then all you need is a couple honest people in the justice system to arrest and prosecute him.”

“Question,” said Neil. “Do you know any honest people?” he asked, directing the question to Andrew and Kevin, who had been living in the city for much longer than Neil or Renee had. “And I’m not even specifically asking if you know anyone honest in the justice system. Just, do you know anyone honest?”

Andrew and Kevin were quiet for a long moment.

“Wymack and Abby are pretty honest,” said Kevin hesitantly.

“Wymack and Abby would help you hide a body if you asked,” said Andrew.

“Sounds useful,” said Neil.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” replied Andrew. “Just that their honesty is subjective, luckily in our favour.”

“Okay, then maybe we don’t need honest people, just allies willing to help,” said Renee.

“Question the second,” said Neil. “Does our plan of tricking Allison into believing that Riko killed her boyfriend in order to get her to fund us in framing Riko for multiple murders seem immoral to any of you?” He looked at the others’ blank faces. “Yeah, me neither,” he sighed. “We’re all super damaged, aren’t we?”

“That’s a little more self-aware than I expected you to be,” commented Andrew.

“Well, I’m honest now,” said Neil. “And truth starts at home.” He said the words as if he was quoting something he’d read but even with Andrew’s near-perfect memory he couldn’t place the source.

“Who said that?” he asked.

Neil’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I did,” he said slowly. “Just now.”

“We’ll worry about our damage later,” said Kevin. “Right now we have to figure out how we’re going to justify to Allison that she was right about Seth’s death not being natural.”

“Calcium gluconate,” said Andrew.

“What’s that?” asked Kevin.

“It’s generally used to treat low blood calcium, but when injected in high enough doses can cause heart failure,” said Andrew. “It wouldn’t show up on a tox screen during an autopsy.”

“How do you know that?” asked Neil suspiciously.

Andrew lifted one shoulder. “Internet.”

“You read about undetectable poisons in your spare time?” asked Neil.

“I once considered writing a detective novel,” said Andrew.

“Really?” asked Kevin, sounding excited.

“No,” said Andrew. “I find poisons interesting.”

“He says at his pie shop, where he serves food to the public,” said Neil.

Kevin was thoughtful. “We have Seth’s drugs. If we add calcium gluconate at a high enough dose and send them to a lab for testing we’ll get results that his drugs were contaminated.”

“And to frame Riko?” Neil asked.

“I don’t think we have to do that right now,” said Renee. “Allison is looking for someone to blame; I don’t think we have to offer concrete evidence, just our suspicions. I think I can convince her to join us.”

“You’re responsible for anybody you recruit,” said Andrew. “If we’re looking for allies you’re going to have to vouch for the behaviour and discretion of anybody you bring to us.”

“Deal,” said Renee.

“Okay,” said Neil. “Sounds like we have a plan.”

“Way to go, Queer Avengers,” said Andrew dryly.

“We’re _not_ calling ourselves that!” protested Kevin.

* * *

That evening, Andrew was reading in his bedroom. His apartment was not large and Neil was currently bustling around in the kitchen. He didn’t like having someone else in his space, but at least it was Neil who he felt relatively at ease around. It’s not like he could make any sort of violent action towards Andrew without killing himself.

“Andrew,” Neil called through his door following a hesitant knock. “I made dinner if you want some.”

Andrew pulled himself off his bed with curiosity. He walked out into his kitchen/eating area where Neil had plated some kind of stir fry. “I don’t actually only eat pie, you know,” he said, perplexed. “You don’t have to cook for me.”

Neil was sitting at the table wearing a onesie that had a hood with rabbit ears. Andrew deduced that Nicky had taken Neil’s request for clothing with hoods to illogical extremes. Neil looked up at Andrew. “I know, but I’ve always found it difficult to only cook enough for one so I have extra.”

Andrew shrugged and served himself; he wasn’t going to turn down prepared food. “You look ridiculous,” he informed Neil.

“I know,” said Neil happily. “I like it. I’ve never really been allowed to wear anything like this before; my father would have found it too childish and cut me and my mother would have found it too memorable and beaten me.”

“Whomp-whomp,” said Andrew, ignoring the curl of anger he’d begun to feel every time Neil casually mentioned his mistreatment by his parents.

Neil shook his head, wearing a small smile on his face. “Alright, then, tell me something about you.”

Andrew could have ignored him or retreated to his room to eat in peace, but he found himself sitting down and acquiescing to Neil’s request. He couldn’t know then how soon these evenings of shared food and conversation would turn into routine, how comforting he would find them, or how quickly he would come to find Neil’s presence welcome and necessary instead of strange and grating.


	4. The Death of Donovan Boyd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Matt and Katelyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this fic gets more ridiculous with each new chapter.
> 
> This chapter references a character thought to have committed suicide as well as a sugar daddy-type relationship between a man in his fifties and a woman in her twenties. If either of those things bother you, you probably want to skip it.

Aaron Minyard was exactly 37 minutes older than his twin brother and he felt that those 37 minutes had had a big impact on both of their lives. Their mother had chosen to keep the elder and give the younger away. Aaron had been 15 years, 6 days, 22 hours, and 17 minutes old when he had learned about the existence of his twin brother, but his excitement over this knowledge had disappeared shortly after Andrew had come to live with him and their mother. Andrew had been taciturn, and secretive, and angry, and, after their mother’s sudden death, distant. Aaron, consumed with grief, had been very upset that Andrew seemed completely indifferent to their mother’s death. He had said things that he now, as an adult, realized were unfair and cruel and he believed that he had forever ruined whatever relationship the two of them could have had.

After Nicky showed up to be their guardian and Andrew had forced Aaron through a cold-turkey detox from the drugs to which he was addicted, the twins had settled into a truce that involved pretending not to care about each other and pretending to ignore the other’s existence. Aaron felt that he had a good understanding of his brother, so he was surprised and appalled about the news that Nicky had been sharing recently. Apparently, Andrew had been making friends.

First it had been Kevin Day, a private detective. That, Aaron could understand. Andrew had an incredible memory and an eye for details so it made sense that Kevin would make use of his skills. But Andrew’s uncharacteristic attachment to other humans hadn’t stopped there. Three weeks ago, in the span of four days, he had somehow attracted three other people that now regularly spent time with Andrew and Kevin at Andrew’s pie shop.

Aaron had always thought that he and Andrew were similar in their disdain for other people. Aaron didn’t want to let anyone close to him, since that left him vulnerable and gave others the chance to take advantage. Andrew’s sudden foray into socialization caused feelings of alarm and confusion and envy in Aaron. _He_ had never let feelings for other people compromise him in any way; he saw it as evidence of his own superiority that he hadn’t.

Aaron was at this moment 24 years, 5 months, 17 hours, and 8 minutes old and he was about to learn that pride goes before a fall.

That was when he met a goddess. She was sitting on a bench in the hallway outside of the morgue, clutching a piece of paper and crying. She had copper coloured skin and dark, unruly hair and carried enough extra weight on her that the uncharitable would call her fat. She looked up at his approach, her green eyes red with tears, her face splotchy, her nose running, and Aaron was caught. Such a creature as this should never be sad he found himself thinking. He wanted to do anything in his power to make her smile.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, although he could guess. Distraught people who had been called in to identify their loved ones were hardly a rare sight at the morgue.

As she explained her predicament to him, he realized that he could help her. It would require him to do one of the hardest things he’d ever have to, but for her he would do it. He would ask his brother for help.

Exactly 43 minutes later, Aaron escorted Katelyn (which was the goddess’ name) into Go Pie. He had always been aware of where his brother’s business was located but he’d never stepped onto the premises. It was quaint, he decided. A small shop, with booths and tables, as well as a display case and a to-go counter where pies were presented. Andrew himself was sitting at one of the larger booths, eating a piece of what appeared to be apple pie à la mode and surrounded by an entourage. Kevin was beside him and an expensive blonde woman sat across from him. A small Asian woman with white-and-rainbow hair had pulled a chair to the head of their table and the very strange ‘crime specialist’ sat hunched in the far corner, swamped in a hoodie. There was something about the man that caused an itch in Aaron’s brain, but he couldn’t quite figure out what. He sympathized with the need to wear a hoodie, though. He, too, was always cold. In medical school he’d even found that his resting temperature was two degrees lower than average.

Nicky was lounging next to the table, obviously participating in their conversation, but had looked up with a customer service smile when the door opened. His face slackened in shock at the sight of Aaron, causing the others to look at him curiously. Andrew’s face was carefully blank.

“Aaron,” said Nicky. “Is something wrong?”

“This is Katelyn,” said Aaron, gesturing her forward. “She has a case for you.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Katelyn, but otherwise didn’t react. Kevin leaned forward expectantly. “Did someone die?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Katelyn. “My sugar daddy.”

The facts were these: Donovan Boyd, 56 years, 2 months, 13 days, 5 hours, and 34 minutes old, was a wealthy plastic surgeon and amateur pilot with an estranged wife and son who often found himself lonely. He had lost touch with his family due to his own inability to remain faithful to his wife. As he grew older, he found it harder and harder to find partners within his preferred age group (young, but not illegally so). He also found that he was less interested in the physical part of the relationship and was gaining more and more satisfaction from spoiling his partners with lavish gifts. To solve both of these dilemmas he joined a dating service, called Sugar Sugar, that specialized in matching wannabe sugar daddies with prospective sugar babies. Katelyn Chavez was his current match, a university senior who needed a source of income to supplement her scholarships. To that end, she’d entered into a legal contract to be Donovan’s sugar baby. She hadn’t regretted the decision; Donovan was kind and attentive and she enjoyed spending time with him.

He’d been out flying a single-seater plane for pleasure when he had crashed. It had taken the insurance company exactly 17 minutes to declare his death a suicide and refuse to pay out his policies. Sugar Sugar had followed suit, denying Katelyn the money that she was still owed under their contract.

“I have no way of getting the money,” said Katelyn tearfully. “And I’m going to be evicted soon if I can’t start paying rent.” She sniffled snotfully. “And I don’t believe that Don killed himself; it must have been an accident, but apparently the police aren’t even investigating!”

“Oh, honey,” said Nicky. “We could use a part-time waitress here. That could help you get back on your feet.”

“Really?” asked Katelyn. “Oh, thank you, thank you!”

Andrew gave Nicky an unimpressed look. Nicky waved his hand dismissively. “We’re actually doing quite well, and your work with Kevin is bringing in a steady income, especially since Neil and Renee joined you and Allison hired you on retainer,” he said. “But we need more help, especially since you’re off solving crime some of the time now. I can help with the baking as long as there is someone to wait tables.”

“So you just hire a stranger off the street without discussing it with me first?” asked Andrew.

“Katelyn’s not a stranger!” gasped Nicky. “She’s Aaron’s friend.” Aaron felt a glow of happiness at the description.

“I’ll think about it,” said Andrew shortly, which was the closest he would ever come to admitting he accepted Nicky's proposal, and they all knew it.

“In the meantime, we’ll look into Donovan’s death,” said Kevin. “You mentioned that he has a wife and son? Maybe they’ll be willing to pay us.”

“If the death is an accident then I’ll pay,” said Allison. “That’s exactly the kind of death that could help us.”

“Help you what?” asked Aaron, suspiciously.

“Help us frame a dangerously unstable megalomaniac for a series of murders,” said Neil.

“Mmm-hmm,” said Aaron, definitely not wanting to get involved. “Katelyn, let’s go before they inadvertently make us accessories to whatever illegal and dangerous things they’re doing.”

“Katelyn, come by tomorrow morning around 9 to fill out forms and start training!” Nicky called after her.

“Aaron doesn’t have friends,” Andrew told him grumpily after the pie shop door had swung shut behind Aaron and Katelyn.

“Which is why we should encourage him when he makes a new friend,” said Nicky indulgently. “There’s a reason I’ve been so gung-ho about your little murder gang, here.”

“Queer Avengers,” corrected Renee.

“Besides, you’re basically a part of the team,” said Allison. “You’re our Alfred.”

“Like from Batman?” asked Nicky. “You think of me as your butler?!”

“Yup,” said Allison. “And I’m Bruce Wayne, and Renee is Batman.”

“First of all, I’m _clearly_ Catwoman,” said Renee in amusement. “Secondly, you do know that Bruce Wayne and Batman are the same person, right?”

Allison gasped. “Spoiler!”

“You shouldn’t combine DC and Marvel,” said Kevin. “They are two completely different comic book universes.”

“I’m too pretty to know anything about comic books,” Allison sniffed.

“You knew who Batman was!” argued Kevin.

“Please,” said Allison. “Is there anybody on the planet who doesn’t?”

Kevin looked pointedly at Neil. “Some sort of man/bat hybrid?” Neil guessed.

“Really?” asked Nicky in disbelief.

Kevin sent a triumphant glance to Allison, who just shrugged. “Neil’s just proving my point. He’s almost as pretty as I am.”

“I wouldn’t align myself too closely with Neil’s knowledge if I were you,” warned Renee. “He’s basically an alien who is visiting our planet for the first time. I have to say, he is not doing a great job of blending in and pretending to be human.”

“My mother didn’t like me doing anything that wouldn’t help us in the long run,” explained Neil. “So I know how to fix and hot-wire cars, and how to stitch up bullet wounds, and about four and a half languages, but no pop culture.”

“Your life sounds so interesting,” said Nicky.

Neil shrugged. “It was mainly long stretches of boredom punctuated by brief moments of terror. Pretty standard childhood.”

“That is not a standard childhood,” argued Allison.

“Sounds like mine,” said Kevin. Andrew and Renee both nodded in agreement.

“Sorry,” drawled Allison. “I momentarily forgot that I’d joined the Walking Tragedy Club.”

“Sadly we cannot all be billionaire heiresses,” said Andrew.

“Yes it is,” said Allison while examining her nails.

“Are you three heading out to the morgue?” Renee asked, diverting the attention away from Allison’s family. In their short acquaintance she had learned that it was a touchy subject.

“Why do we never get to go on your super secret morgue visits?” asked Allison.

“Allison,” chided Renee gently. “We promised that we wouldn’t pry into their secrets.”

“You promised,” huffed Allison.

“And you’re mine so you have to abide by the deals I made.”

“I’m yours, am I?” asked Allison archly.

A light blush dusted Renee’s cheekbones. Andrew wondered if it were real or contrived, since it caught Allison's attention. “I meant that I recruited you,” Renee said.

“We’ll go to the morgue and then I’ll try to get my hands on the police report for the plane crash,” said Kevin. “Renee, can you try to track down Donovan’s wife and son? See if they have any useful information, or a desire to pay us?”

Nicky sighed dramatically. “Alas, I have to remain here. Alone.”

“At your paying job where your cousin doesn’t dock your pay when you stand around gossiping,” said Andrew.

Nicky gasped. “You wouldn’t! You spend tonnes of time gallivanting around and sitting at a table with your friends not working!”

“I own the place,” said Andrew. “Besides, I finished all my morning baking. Hold down the fort for a couple hours. You owe me; I let you hire someone today.”

* * *

4 hours and 23 minutes later Andrew, Neil, and Kevin returned to the pie shop.

“How’d it go?” asked Nicky. “What did the dead guy have to say?”

“Plane crash was an accident,” said Neil. “He said that shortly after takeoff there was a weird squawking noise and then a pigeon who had apparently been hiding somewhere in the cockpit started flying around in a panic. It got out of the plane but was sucked into his side propeller and he lost control.”

“That… doesn’t sound probable,” said Nicky.

“It’s not,” said Kevin. “I wanted to press him for more information, but he got all distracted by his death; moaning about how now he can’t ever repair his relationship with his son and that his son will never know that he is sorry for not being a better father but that he is proud of him.”

“Dead people are always so full of emotions,” lamented Andrew.

“So how are you going to give his son his final message?” asked Nicky. Three blank, but perplexed, faces stared back at him.

“We’re… not?” said Kevin.

“They’re his _final wishes_ ,” stressed Nicky. “Andrew, you should be passing on the last words and wishes of the people you wake to their loved ones.”

“How exactly do you propose I do that without drawing attention to the fact that I can talk to dead people?” asked Andrew.

“I don’t know,” said Nicky grumpily. “But I do believe that you were granted your power to do good; this is a way to do good!”

“What about solving unsolvable murders and giving the families of the deceased peace?” asked Neil.

“And then framing your enemy for those same deaths?” countered Nicky.

“Not the murders,” argued Neil. “Just the accidental deaths.”

Renee and Allison returned then, trailed by an incredibly tall, friendly looking man. Allison and Renee squashed into the booth next to Neil; the new man took a seat at the head of the table.

“This would be more comfortable if you and Andrew sat on the same side, Tiny,” Allison grumbled to Neil.

“We can’t,” said Neil. “I’m allergic to him.”

Allison looked like she was going to protest, but Renee spoke up. “This is Matt,” she explained. “He’s Donovan’s son.”

“Uh… sorry for your loss,” said Nicky awkwardly into the silence that followed.

“Thanks,” said Matt. “It’s just… we were never close, but now that’s he’s gone, I’m feeling a little adrift. I can’t believe we’re never going to speak again. And I’m so mad at him for committing suicide.”

Kevin looked at a loss and glanced to Renee for help.

“When we heard about how Matt was feeling, we invited him here,” Renee said. She spoke with emphasis, “Here to our support group for people who have lost loved ones.” To Matt she said, “Neil, Kevin, and Andrew have all struggled with the loss of their mothers.”

“Yeah, I’m out,” said Andrew, sliding out of the booth and heading back into the kitchen. He was annoyed that his mind had traitorously thought of Cass at the mention of his mother. In the years since her demise he had grown up and realized that the fact that she had wilfully ignored all the signs of her son’s abuse of Andrew meant that she was not the perfect mother that she had seemed at the time. He had never had a mother and therefore didn’t have one to lose.

Neil watched Andrew’s exodus enviously from his position crammed into the wall.

“Andrew doesn’t open up well to new people,” excused Nicky, “...or at all.”

“That’s okay,” said Matt. “I feel a little silly barging in on your group, anyway. I just wish that I could get some closure.”

“I understand,” said Nicky. “I’m estranged from my parents and if one of them died and we never got to speak before that…” he trailed off. Then, his eyes lit up. “I have an idea. Wait here!” He started leaving in a hurry, before turning back to them. “I just have to run to my apartment, which is down the block. Can one of you seat any customers that come in and bring them coffee and a slice of their desired pie?” He passed a critical eye over the table’s occupants. “Renee, it’s going to have to be you. You’re the only decent person here who I’ve known for longer than twenty seconds.” He took another couple steps. “Actually, I’m just going to close half an hour early,” he said, flipping the sign on the door to CLOSED.

The rest of them sat in silence in the wake of Nicky’s quick exit. Matt observed Neil curiously before his attention turned to Kevin and he did a double take.

“Kevin Day?” he asked incredulously. “Former exy star and brother of Riko Moriyama?”

“Yes?” said Kevin. “I mean, sort of.”

A cloud of anger descended over Matt’s face and Renee subtly switched benches, putting herself between Matt and Kevin.

“Riko Moriyama deserves to swallow acid and have it eat him from the inside out,” said Matt angrily.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” said Neil. “My murder fantasies for Riko tend to involve setting him on fire. Can’t zombify ashes.”

“I… what?” said Matt.

“Yeah, we all hate him, too,” said Allison in a bored voice.

“I told you we should have called ourselves the We Hate Riko Club,” Neil told Renee.

“You all hate Riko?” asked Matt faintly.

“Yup,” said Neil happily. “In fact, we’re working on an elaborate revenge plan against him.”

“...Can I help?” asked Matt.

“Depends,” said Renee. “How squeamish are you about fabricating evidence that he was involved in your father’s accidental death?”

“Not… very,” said Matt slowly, thinking it over.

“What do you have against him, anyway?” asked Allison. “Other than the fact that he’s a horrible, entitled gremlin?”

Matt huffed angrily. “My mother was a boxer,” he said. “She was great. But the Moriyamas make a lot of money from fixing boxing matches. Riko approached my mother to ask her to throw a bout for a lot of money. She refused, but then ‘coincidentally’ was attacked right before the bout. Someone threw acid in her face; she was blinded and scarred.”

Kevin held up his scarred left hand. “Riko doesn’t like to be denied,” he said brokenly.

“Why should we let you join our revenge group?” asked Allison.

“I’ve wanted to get revenge on Riko for a while now,” said Matt. “I’ll help you any way I can.”

“Alright,” said Renee placidly. “I’ll take you on provisionally. But you should be forewarned that we’re not particularly moral.”

“As long as we take down Riko, I don’t care how we do it,” said Matt.

Nicky came huffing back into the pie shop, a thin rectangular box held under his arm. “What did I miss?” he wheezed.

“Nothing much,” said Allison. “Matt joined the Queer Avengers.”

“What?” cried Nicky in dismay. “I was gone for _ten minutes_. Why does _he_ get recruited before I do?”

“Wait, all you are queer?” Matt asked excitedly, looking at Neil with interest. Neil shifted uncomfortably.

“Yep,” said Nicky. “Neil’s ace, though, so you’ll have no luck there. Believe me, I’ve already tried.”

“What did you bring, Nicky?” said Neil loudly to change the subject.

Nicky presented the box in his hands with a flourish. It was a Ouija board. “I’m a genius,” said Nicky.

“You’re certainly something,” muttered Kevin.

“What’s that?” Neil asked.

“It allows us to communicate with the dead,” said Nicky dramatically.

“Um…” said Neil.

“Not literally,” drawled Allison. “It’s a hoax; a staple of every teenage girl’s sleepover.”

Nicky pouted. “I know you’re all thinking that this is stupid, but if I’d lost someone I cared about I would do _anything_ to get a message from them,” he said. “There are all sorts of things that defy explanation that we accept every day. Why wouldn’t the people we love keep an eye on us? I think the dead mourn the living just as much as the living mourn the dead.”

Renee moved off the bench to let Nicky sit and squeezed in next to Allison again. “Alright, Nicky,” she said kindly. “Let’s see if anyone we’ve lost has a message for us.

Nicky unpacked the Ouija board. It was a flat board with the letters of the alphabet printed on it as well as YES and NO. A plastic wedge was included. Nicky explained the process and all of them placed two fingers on the wedge and waited for Nicky to speak to the gathered spirits.

“Oh, honoured dead,” said Nicky in a deep, dramatic voice. “Are any of you here with us in this pie shop this evening?”

There was a hesitation before the wedge started moving on the board.

YES

“Which of us do you have a message for?” asked Nicky. Slowly, the wedge moved to five letters.

K-E-V-I-N

Kevin gave an irritated look to Nicky who looked unapologetic in turn. “I’m not doing anything. Who do you think it could be?”

Kevin gave a resigned sigh. “Mum?” he guessed.

YES

“What message do you have…” Nicky paused. “What’s your mother’s name?” he stage whispered to Kevin.

“Kayleigh,” said Kevin in a strangled voice.

P-L-A-Y-E-X-Y

Kevin retracted his fingers from the wedge as if he’d been burned. “No!” he said loudly.

“Play exy?” Allison asked.

“I _can’t_ ,” said Kevin, looking up at the ceiling, presumably assuming that his mother’s spirit was floating above them. “I’m injured.”

“You just stopped playing altogether?” asked Matt, incredulously. “You were amazing!”

“I’m broken,” said Kevin. “If I’m not perfect, what’s the point?”

“Fun?” suggested Matt. “If you never try, how do you know you could never be good again?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” said Kevin. “Let’s talk to the dead spirits again.” He paused. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Can you ask if my father is here?” asked Matt, getting invested in the process despite himself.

“Alright,” said Nicky placidly. “Oh, honoured dead, we are looking for Donovan Boyd. Is Donovan Boyd with us tonight?”

YES

“Your son is waiting for a message. What is your message for your son?”

I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U-I-A-M-P-R-O-U-D-O-F-Y-O-U-I-A-M-S-O-R-R-Y-P-S-I-T-W-A-S-N-T-S-U-I-C-I-D-E

Neil was pretty sure that Nicky was directing the wedge, but he actually couldn’t tell for sure. Andrew had come out of the kitchen midway through the lengthy message and was putting a lot of effort into refraining from rolling his eyes. He was pretty sure that if he did they might actually fall out of his head.

Matt looked emotional and cleared his throat several times. “Let’s keep going.”

“O… okay,” said Nicky. “Honoured dead, does anyone else have a message?” There was a very long pause before the wedge started moving; it moved slower and more jerkily this time.

YES

“What is the message?” Nicky asked.

R-U-N-A-B-R-A-M

“Runa bram?” said Matt.

“Runab ram?” guessed Nicky.

“Run ab ram?” said Allison.

Neil stopped breathing. He checked the exits and tried to look innocently puzzled. He might be honest now but he was still not about to give up his true name.

His mother would be so disappointed in him. He had broken every promise he had made to her: don’t slow down, don’t look back, be anybody but himself and never be anybody for long. He could practically feel his mother’s phantom fists raining down blows on his back. _Run, Abram_.

* * *

Neil’s breathing was short and rapid. Nicky had bought him too many clothes. He didn’t have enough room in his duffel bag to pack them all. What could he leave behind?

There was a knock on his door frame, causing him to wheel around in fright. He was so distracted that he hadn’t even heard Andrew’s approaching footsteps. “Dinner’s ready,” said Andrew, before taking in the sight before him. He tensed. “Where are you going?”

“I have to leave,” said Neil.

“You’re not going anywhere,” replied Andrew. “Did you forget your promise?”

“No,” said Neil.

“What changed?”

Neil mumbled something. At Andrew’s steady look, he blushed and looked away. “The Ouija board told me to.”

“Right,” said Andrew at a loss.

“Don’t give me that look,” said Neil. “Who is to say that it isn’t real? Stranger things have happened. Have you forgotten that I am an actual dead person?”

“Alright,” said Andrew calmly. “Maybe the Ouija board conveyed a message from beyond the grave. Who sent it?”

“My mother,” replied Neil.

Andrew took care to control his expression. Sharing his personal opinion of Neil’s mother was not an option as he was well aware that Neil would not take it well; he had loved her. “From what you’ve told me over the last few weeks, she didn’t always make choices with consideration to what was best for you, just what would keep you farthest away from your father,” he said dryly. “You’ve mentioned her paranoia. There’s no reason that you should obey her without question; it's not like her advice kept you alive. Your father isn’t chasing you anymore. You promised you would stay; I promised I would keep you alive.”

“I… okay,” said Neil quietly. “Sorry.”

Andrew ignored the apology. “Come for dinner. I’ll tell you the story of how I learned of my power.”

Neil looked up in interest. Andrew had been holding that story back. “Are you bribing me to stay?”

“I don’t have to,” said Andrew. “You promised and I trust you to keep that promise. I’m telling you because I want to.”

Neil felt overwhelmed. He came to the sudden realization that Andrew was the closest friend that he’d ever had. Not only that, but he now had multiple people that he considered friends and it seemed like Matt would be one as well. He was relaxed and safe and happy, and he spent his days in a way he enjoyed. He pondered the irony that he had had to die in order for his life to actually begin.


	5. The Death of Louis Andritch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Erik, Betsy, Thea, and Marissa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows the show more closely than past chapters, in particular Season 1, Episode 5: "Bitches".
> 
> Thank you to everyone is is reading and leaving kudos and comments! Who wants some pining?

It had been 1 month, 5 days, 19 hours, and 24 minutes since Andrew Minyard had had a glimpse of Neil Josten’s naked body, but his photographic memory was able to conjure up the image at will. He was currently asleep and therefore had no control over what his brain decided to dream about, but this dream was much better than the memories/nightmares that usually plagued him.

Neil was stretched out below him in his bed, his scars displayed in all their glory. Andrew splayed his fingers across the iron burn on his shoulder, he ran his thumb across the bullet wound on his upper chest, he traced the knife slices on his belly. Neil was gasping in pleasure from Andrew’s touch, flushed and writhing on the bed.

“Yes, Andrew,” he breathed out as Andrew moved up to kiss him. He kissed him deeply and desperately, pulling back when the quality of Neil’s breath changed. Neil was now gasping not in pleasure, but in distress. Before Andrew’s eyes he turned blue and lay still. Neil’s dead body, after all, was another sight that his perfect memory could supply at will.

Neil’s eyes snapped open. “You killed me,” he croaked.

Andrew woke.

He was not particularly surprised; he was aware that he had let Neil much closer than most and he would have had to be blind to not notice his attraction to Neil. He wondered if the fact that Neil was completely safe - Neil couldn’t touch him to attempt to hurt him - contributed to his attractiveness to Andrew. Andrew was not used to wanting but he was also unused to getting so he figured that he could ignore this inconvenient crush and continue on with his life as before. Neil’s promise would only keep him here for less than a year and then he would be gone.

His dream left him a little unsettled and he felt the need to set eyes on Neil; to make sure that he was still the type of dead person that walked and talked and ate and grew and aged. He levered himself out of bed and padded softly to Neil’s room. The door was open and the room was empty.

The sudden and severe feeling of alarm was foreign. Andrew had spent most of his teenage years making sure that no emotions could affect him. The fact that a patchwork runaway could induce the strongest emotions that he had felt in years was greatly distressing.

Andrew took a step into Neil’s room and relaxed slightly when he observed that Neil’s belongings were still in the room. This wasn’t a repeat of a fortnight ago when he’d found Neil packing in a panic because a Ouija board had told him to run. Neil was just… out somewhere, although Andrew didn’t have a clue where to start looking and his desire to set eyes on Neil was far more insistent now.

He heard the key in the lock of his apartment and he moved out of Neil’s room.

“Oh, hi,” said Neil as he entered. Andrew resolutely ignored the fact that he was flushed and breathing hard, looking reminiscent to how he had in Andrew’s dream. “I expected you’d sleep in a lot more,” Neil continued. “When’s the last time you had a day off?”

Andrew shrugged. With Katelyn being hired at Go Pie both he and Nicky were now had the novelty of being able to alternate taking time off. “Where were you?” he asked, trying not to sound accusatory. Neil was not his possession. He was allowed to go out if and when he wished.

“For my run,” said Neil, like it was obvious. “Oh, right,” he said in realization. “You’re usually already baking at this time. Matt and I have been meeting up to go jogging before he goes to work.”

“Oh,” said Andrew, not liking the wisp of jealousy he felt when Neil mentioned Matt. The two of them had become quite friendly since Matt had joined their group.

“I’m just going to jump in the shower and then I’m meeting Kevin downstairs for morning pie; do you want to come?”

“I have to,” said Andrew. “I have to see what Nicky’s done in my absence.”

Neil flashed him a smile on his way to the washroom and Andrew closed his eyes. “Stop it,” he told himself. “He’s not for you.”

* * *

Kevin was already waiting for them in the pie shop, perusing his newspaper. Nicky brought out four slices of the pie of the day and joined them in their usual booth.

Andrew inspected the pie closely. “Pear?” he asked.

“Yup,” replied Nicky blithely. “With my own special addition!”

“Drugs?” asked Neil with trepidation.

“What? No!” cried Nicky. “Why would you guess that?”

“I don’t know!” said Neil. “Just the way you said it sounded like you were drugging us.”

“No,” said Nicky. “I just went a little off-recipe but I used real food ingredients.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed, but he took a bite. His eyes widened fractionally. “Cheese in the crust?”

“Gruyère,” said Nicky, nodding.

“Huh,” said Andrew thoughtfully. “Acceptable.”

Nicky looked overwhelmed, as if Andrew had given him high praise.

Kevin folded the newspaper. “Got a case,” he said.

The facts were these: Louis Andritch, a renowned dog breeder and president of the County Kennel Club, was 37 years, 11 weeks, 5 days, 1 hour and 2 minutes old, when he was stabbed multiple times in his office. The Kennel Club was offering a reward for information leading to the arrest of his killer. A reward which would be easy for them to claim after a quick trip to the morgue to speak with Mr. Andritch.

“Louis Andritch,” Kevin said as soon as Andrew had touched the man’s hand and he blinked back to life. “Welcome to the afterlife. We’re conducting an intake interview.”

“Short, concise answers are best,” said Neil with amusement.

“O...kay,” said Louis.

“Who stabbed you?” asked Kevin.

“There was stabbing, but nobody stabbed me,” said Louis.

After a beat, Neil spoke up. “That was nice and concise,” he said. “Could you maybe elaborate?”

Louis Andritch detailed the strange series of events that resulted in his stabbings. He had taken a drink from his travel mug and immediately spit it out, the taste of almonds in his coffee indicating that it had been dosed with cyanide. He dropped the mug on the floor resulting in coffee splashing everywhere. He then slipped on the coffee and landed chest-first against the sharp end of an unfortunately positioned dog brush (sticking out of a basket on his desk), and, in his effort to get up, he continually slipped and fell against the brush over and over.

“That is so unlikely,” Kevin muttered angrily. “Where did you get the coffee?”

“From my partner,” said Louis in realization. Andrew pushed him back when he started to get up, and then he was dead again.

They stopped by Aaron’s office on their way out. “Did the tox screen on Louis Andritch show any cyanide?”

“No,” said Aaron suspiciously. “What makes you ask that?”

“Just a hunch,” said Kevin unconvincingly.

“Mmm-hmm,” said Aaron.

“Well at least that’s straightforward,” said Neil as they were leaving the building. “How many partners can he have?”

“Haven’t you ever learned about tempting fate?” Andrew asked.

Indeed, Louis found himself involved in many dog-related business ventures and had four different business partners that made up their pool of suspects. The suspects were these: Erik Klose was the owner of a store that sold designer dogware. Like the Standard Poodles he favoured, he was generally pleasant, happy and perky, but might snap if teased or surprised. Betsy Dobson, a renowned pet psychologist, was the second partner. She was analytical, intelligent, and sharp-eyed much like her preferred Border Collies. Thea Muldani was Louis’ third partner: she ran an obedience school, where she forced even the most stubborn dogs into submission. Like the Jack Russell Terriers she coaxed into obedience, Thea possessed strong hunting instincts that, if left unchecked, could result in deadly aggression. The fourth and final suspect was young Marissa, who trained Golden Retrievers and donated them as seeing-eye dogs to the blind. Like her Goldens, Marissa was loyal, friendly and competitively obedient. She craved human attention, but if denied, her competitive obedience could go horribly awry.

Kevin finished detailing their suspects to Andrew and Neil as Nicky looked on.

“We’ll go undercover and try to figure out which of them poisoned the coffee,” said Kevin. “Wymack has a dog we can borrow.”

“Oooh, can I play?” asked Nicky.

“No.”

“Come on,” Nicky cajoled. “There’s four suspects and four of us. If the same people keep showing up to all of their businesses they’re bound to notice!”

Kevin looked contemplative. “Fine,” he said. “But remember that we’re going to be undercover. Try to stay under the radar and don’t give out any actual factual information.”

“You mean you want us to lie,” said Neil. At Andrew’s raised eyebrow, he held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not complaining, I'm pro-lying. I used to lie for a living.”

“Lie _consistently_ ,” Kevin stressed. “We don’t want them to be suspicious. And we’ll have to take turns with the dog.”

“What’s his name?” Nicky asked.

“Porkchop,” replied Kevin. “And you’d better lie about that, too.”

* * *

“Greetings!” said Nicky while grandly sweeping into Erik Klose’s couture shop for dogs. “My name is Esteban Emmanuel Estevez Esquire, and this is my dog Sir Barkus von Dogface, the Third. We are both lovers of fashion, ha ha! I am impressed with your collection of haute couture.”

“Um, hello,” said Erik Klose, a muscular, blond, German man. He offered his hand, which Nicky shook enthusiastically. He didn’t know why Kevin had insinuated that he would be bad at this; he was excellent at being undercover.

“I have questions,” said Nicky. “I love Captain Barkus here, so much so that I would like to get a second dog. Do you know any good breeders?”

“Captain?” asked Erik. “I thought it was Sir Barkus?”

“Uh…” said Nicky. “It is! It’s both. He’s a Captain, an officer, but he retired. So even though he’s not a Captain anymore he still deserves the respect of being called Sir.” He smiled nervously. “Nailed it,” he whispered.

“What was that?” asked Erik.

“Nothing!” said Nicky. “So: any good breeders?”

“Yes, I…” Erik trailed off and an expression of grief passed over his face. “Sorry,” he apologized. “My business partner is… was an excellent breeder, but he passed away very recently.”

“I so sorry for your loss,” Nicky gushed. “Was it very sudden?”

“Yes,” said Erik. “It was very quick. I saw him that morning to discuss future plans, I gave him some coffee to go, and the next thing I knew I was getting a call that he was dead.” His eyes glistened with tears.

“Oh,” said Nicky sadly, sweeping Erik into a hug. It was an excellent hug, the kind you need when you’re very sad, the kind that squeezes you so tightly that you know you’re not alone. Nicky tried to remind himself that he was hugging a probable poisoner, but kept getting distracted by the chiselled chest he was being clutched against. “I know what will make you feel better,” said Nicky. “Pie. I work at a pie shop and I’ve noticed that a sweet treat can really help to improve your mood.”

Erik pulled back and wiped his eyes. “Maybe I will stop by,” he said with a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry for breaking down on you.”

“No problem,” Nicky dismissed. “Now, can we discuss dog fashion?”

* * *

“Mr. Pye,” said Betsy Dobson, looking at Andrew shrewdly over her glasses. She gave a significant glance to where Porkchop was sitting; Andrew had placed him at the far end of the couch, at least two feet away from him. “You forgot to indicate the name of your dog on the intake form.”

Andrew looked at Porkchop; the yellow Lab cocked his head in interest. “The dog’s name is Neil.”

Betsy scribbled down some information in her notebook. “I’m not quite sure what you want to achieve through these sessions, but I can tell right now that there is distance between you and Neil.”

“Physical distance,” said Andrew, deciding to take advantage of the free therapy session. “Emotionally, we’re close.”

“Why do you think this distance exists?” asked Betsy.

“I like my space,” said Andrew. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No,” agreed Betsy, “but I think it’s more complicated than that.”

“There’s an allergy involved,” said Andrew. “I’ve come to want him around - which is strange for me - but if we touch… let’s just say that it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“Well, Neil is a Lab,” said Betsy reasonably. “They’re generally in need of quite a lot of affection. Maybe he's not the right dog for you? Have you considered a different breed of dog? Or perhaps a cat?”

“I don’t want anyone else,” said Andrew. “Besides, Neil also likes his space; he was mistreated before I got him.”

Betsy sent a considering glance to Porkchop who was happily panting with a doggy grin on his face. “Right,” she said, sitting back. She clicked her pen and set it down on her notebook, perfectly perpendicular to the spine. “You have to decide whether this relationship is fulfilling for both of you. Relationships can be emotionally fulfilling even without physical contact, but if either of you is expecting more there will be resentment in the future.”

“How will I know what he wants?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” said Betsy.

“Neil is a dog,” Andrew pointed out.

Betsy smirked a little. “Of course he is,” she said indulgently. “Now why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

Andrew gave an inaudible sigh. “I’m looking into the death of your business partner, Louis Andritch.”

Betsy’s expression hardened for a second before softening into sadness. “His murder came as a terrible shock,” said Betsy. “It’s been hard for all of his friends and associates; he was a great man. I don’t know who would want to kill him.”

“When did you see him last?”

“The morning of his murder,” said Betsy sadly. “He came by for his usual session. Generally we share coffee afterwards, but he was running late so I put it into a travel mug for him.”

Andrew nodded and got up to leave.

“Mr. Pye,” said Betsy. “It seems like you need someone to talk to. I am aware that you let yourself open up to me because you view my profession as a joke,” she started.

“You’re a psychologist… for dogs,” said Andrew, injecting disdain into his voice.

“I am a licensed therapist,” said Betsy. “Yes, I work with dogs, but mainly I help people who have trouble creating and maintaining meaningful relationships. And I think that I can help you.”

“I don’t need help,” said Andrew.

“All the same,” said Betsy. “If you want to continue our sessions-” she looked at Porkchop “- _sans_ man’s best friend over there, I would be willing.”

Andrew just waved dismissively, but he filed away the information. If Betsy didn’t turn out of be a murderer maybe he’d take her up on her offer. Although, having a murderer for a therapist might actually be a positive. They’d have something in common at least.

* * *

Thea Muldani gave Kevin and Porkchop an unimpressed look. “He doesn’t respect you,” she told Kevin.

“He does!” argued Kevin.

“Tell him to sit.”

“Sit,” Kevin commanded Porkchop. Nothing happened. “Sit!” said Kevin more forcefully, and tried to push down on Porkchop’s backside. Porkchop snarled. “He doesn’t want to sit,” Kevin told Thea.

Thea glanced at Porkchop. “Sit,” she said in a no-nonsense voice. Porkchop sat, because he was not an idiot. Thea looked back to Kevin and raised an eyebrow. She pulled out a dog training clicker and clicked it. * _click_ * “Don’t lie,” she commanded. “Now tell me, Mr… what was your name again?”

“Knight,” said Kevin. “Evan Knight. And this is Rib-eye.”

“Mr. Knight,” said Thea, “your dog is anxious.”

Kevin looked at Porkchop who was still placidly sitting on the ground. “He doesn’t look anxious.”

“It’s not always visible. Do you know the main cause of anxiety in dogs?” Kevin shook his head and Thea continued, “It’s because people treat dogs like they’re humans. Dogs need a strict pack structure. The human must establish themselves as the leader of the pack; most dogs are incredibly ill-suited to being a pack leader. If their human doesn’t take control then they will think that they are responsible for all decisions made for their pack, leading to anxiety. I can train your dog, but only you can earn his respect.”

“How can I do that?”

* _click_ * “Be honest. Reward good behaviour. Punish unwanted behaviour.”

“How can you punish a dumb animal? It seems mean,” said Kevin.

“I didn’t suggest physical punishment,” said Thea. “Deny them something they want until they do what you want. What do you want, Evan?” * _click_ *

Kevin blinked in confusion at the sound of the clicker. “Money,” he said.

“Good,” said Thea. “What else?” * _click_ *

“Approval.” * _click_ * “To change the past.” * _click_ * “For my friends to be safe.” * _click_ * “To play exy again.” * _click_ * “Love.” He didn’t know why he kept answering truthfully; he had not noticed that Thea had been training him subconsciously to be truthful since they’d met.

Thea rubbed Kevin’s bicep. “Excellent, Evan,” she said warmly. Kevin smiled proudly. “That’s good work. Now, tell me why you are really here.” * _click_ *

Kevin blinked away the desire to do as Thea commanded. “I’m here to train my dog,” he said.

Thea pulled her hand away with a disappointed hiss. Kevin felt immediately bereft. “Evan,” she said reproachfully. “Don’t lie.” * _click_ *

“I’m trying to figure out which of his business partners killed Louis Andritch.”

Thea paused in her praise of Kevin’s honesty. “Why do you think one of his partners killed him?”

“...There was a note.”

“He wrote a note after being fatally stabbed but before he succumbed to his injuries? That said one of his partners killed him but didn’t mention them by name?”

“...Yes.”

“And the police didn’t mention it,” said Thea dryly.

“It was hidden,” said Kevin. He shook himself and remembered that he was the actual investigator out of the two of them. “If you had to point the finger at anyone, who would it be?”

Thea hummed thoughtfully. “Erik’s more bark than bite… Betsy is certainly capable, but she would need a motive and would pick a less gory method to dispatch him… Marissa is harmless; she would fetch a ball in traffic if I told her to.”

“Or murder someone?” asked Kevin. “If you claim that the three of them are innocent, then the odd man out is you.”

“Do you think I’m capable of killing someone Evan?” * _click_ *

“Yes.”

“Do you think I killed Louis?” * _click_ *

“I hope not,” said Kevin. “When did you last see him?”

“The morning of his murder,” said Thea. “We met to discuss which of his studs were producing the most easily trained pups.”

“Did you give him a beverage?”

Thea’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t see why that matters, but, yes. I gave him a travel cup of coffee so he could drink it on his way to his office.”

* * *

“Oh, what an adorable puppy!” Marissa squealed. She went down on her knees and started petting Porkchop vigorously. Neil watched judgmentally as Porkchop rolled onto his back to get belly scritches. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? What’s your name, beautiful?”

It took Neil a couple beats to realize that the dog couldn’t answer the question. “Uh, Dog,” he said, and winced. Apparently lying was a skill that needed to be practiced. His recent honesty had ruined his well-honed ability.

“That’s funny,” said Marissa guilelessly. “Is your name Man?”

“Yes,” said Neil and then had to stop himself from punching himself in the face.

“Really?” asked Marissa, sounding interested but not skeptical.

“My last name,” clarified Neil. “With two ‘n’s. Mann.”

“Ah,” said Marissa. “I was going to say that I’ve never met someone with the name Man before. What’s your first name?”

“Randy,” said Neil, selecting the first name that came to mind. His eyes fell closed in shame. The problem, he realized, was overconfidence. He hadn’t bothered to prepare a backstory because he had trusted in his ability to lie on the fly.

“Randy Mann,” said Marissa slowly.

“Yup,” said Neil gamely.

“So how can I help you, Mr. Mann and Dog?”

“Uh, I know a blind man?” said Neil. “Named Mark. And I was wondering if Dog here could possibly be trained to be his guide dog?”

“Well that depends,” said Marissa kindly. “How old is Dog?”

“Um,” said Neil internally panicking. How was he supposed to know how old the dog was? How long did dogs live? He had a suspicion that they had shorter lifespans than humans, but by how much? Also, how young was too young? Were dogs like humans, having a decade of uselessness before they could be trained? “Four...te...een.”

“He’s quite old for a Lab, then. He should just relax and enjoy his old age. It’s best to start training when they’re quite young.”

“Okay,” said Neil. “Do you know anywhere where I could acquire a younger dog?”

“Oh,” said Marissa, looking lost and sad. “I just lost my breeder.”

“I’m… sorry,” said Neil.

“It was so sudden,” she said, her eyes glistening. Neil had neglected to take into account that normal people were often sad when people they knew died. He looked at the exit and considered how Kevin would react if he just left without any information. Marissa wiped her eyes and gave Neil a watery smile. “One minute I was handing him his coffee, and the next he was gone. It’s made me realize how short and precious our lives are.”

“Sure,” said Neil, who had first hand knowledge of how short lives could be.

“It’s made me want to seize the day and not let any opportunities pass me by.”

“Great,” said Neil, not really listening anymore now that he’d gotten the information he’d come for.

“So maybe we could go out sometime?” asked Marissa hopefully.

“Whatever you say,” said Neil, inching away.

“Really?” asked Marissa in excitement.

Neil noticed her tone and mentally replayed the last half minute of conversation. “What? Oh, no,” he said. “I’m… already in a relationship.” He didn’t know why he had used that particular excuse; it had never been true.

“Oh,” said Marissa in disappointment. “Well, keep me in mind if you ever break up with her.”

“Him,” corrected Neil absently, not even registering his own words as he made his escape.

* * *

When they returned to Go Pie, Matt, Allison, and Renee were waiting for them.

“Did it take all four of you to figure out how to walk a dog?” asked Allison, glancing at Porkchop. “And why are you bringing a dog into a restaurant?”

“He’s not going to be where the food is prepared,” defended Kevin. “I’m taking him back to my father this evening.”

“So what were you guys up to today?” asked Renee. “Katelyn said that you were out on a case.”

“I met the hottest guy,” said Nicky excitedly, but then he sobered, “but I think he might be a murderer.”

“But Marissa said she gave Louis his coffee right before he died,” said Neil in confusion.

“So did Erik,” said Nicky.

“So did Betsy,” said Andrew.

“Thea, too,” said Kevin. The four of them stared at each other.

“The man had four cups of coffee in a short period of time?” asked Matt. “Did he die of his bladder bursting? Or his heart beating too fast?”

“No,” said Neil. “He was poisoned by cyanide, but he died from stab wounds. Long story.”

The door to the pie shop burst open and in marched Erik, Betsy, Thea, and Marissa.

“We want to see the note,” said Erik.

“What note?” asked Nicky.

Thea pointed at Kevin. “Evan told me that Louis left a note blaming one of us for his murder.”

“And you said that _I_ was going to ruin everything,” said Nicky.

“How did you find us?” asked Renee, ever practical.

“Esteban told me he worked at a pie shop,” said Erik. “He gave me the address in case I wanted to eat pie to help me recover from my grief.”

Kevin looked murderous. “I would say we’re both equally at fault,” said Nicky.

“You chose Evan as your super undercover name?” Neil asked Kevin quietly.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” defended Kevin. “Why, what did you choose?”

“I’m not telling you,” said Neil. “I want to keep being judgmental from up here on my high horse.”

“The note,” said Thea sharply.

“The note was covered in blood and disintegrated as soon as we read it,” said Andrew.

“Well it’s impossible,” said Betsy. “None of us had the time to stab him and then get back to our places of employment and clean ourselves up. We all have alibis.”

“He wasn’t killed by stabbing,” said Kevin. “We did a… blood spatter analysis. He accidentally fell on the sharp end of a decorative dog brush when he slipped in a puddle of coffee. Coffee which had been poisoned.”

The four partners looked at each other. “Poisoned how?” asked Thea suspiciously.

“We were unable to analyze the coffee, but we found the mug,” Neil improvised. “It had a suspicious almond smell. That could only be cyanide.”

“Um,” said Marissa tentatively, raising her hand. “I had just bought a new almond flavoured creamer and I added it to Louis’ coffee for the first time that day.”

There was silence. “You mean to tell us that Louis stabbed himself accidentally because he spilled his coffee mistakenly thinking it was poisoned?” asked Thea incredulously.

“That is what our investigation has revealed,” said Kevin in a strangled voice.

Thea pulled her clicker out of her pocket. * _click_ * “Tell the truth,” she commanded.

“I am,” said Kevin. “It was a completely improbable accident.”

“Do you think we can pin it on Riko?” Allison asked in an audible whisper.

“Riko?” echoed Erik. “Riko Moriyama?”

“Er, yes,” said Matt. “Why?”

Erik and the women’s faces all clouded in anger. “He killed our dog,” said Marissa, with far more emotion than she had shown when speaking of Louis’ death.

“You had a shared dog?” asked Renee.

“She was a masterpiece,” said Thea. “An achievement in breeding.”

“Bubblegum,” said Marissa sadly. “She was a Colldenrussepoo.”

“Gesundheit,” said Nicky.

“The perfect blend of Border Collie, Golden Retriever, Jack Russell Terrier, and Poodle: smart, loyal, athletic, and hypoallergenic,” explained Betsy.

“She was our pride and joy,” said Erik. “The first of a dynasty, worth a fortune. Riko offered to buy her from us. A week after we refused to sell dear Bubblegum, she ‘mistakenly’ ate some rat poison.”

“Pure genetic perfection,” said Thea. “Gone like that.” She snapped. Kevin sat up at attention. “Evan,” she said. “Why were you you speaking of Riko?” * _click_ *

“We’re working together to get revenge on Riko,” said Kevin. His friends shared glances, confused why he was being so honest. “We’re called the Queer Avengers. Also, my name is Kevin.”

“You finally said our name out loud!” said Renee with a fist pump. Then she introduced herself to the four newcomers. Everyone else followed suit. Betsy gave Andrew a speculative look that he ignored when Neil introduced himself.

“How can we help?” Erik asked, pulling up a chair.

“It might be best if you stay out of it,” said Renee. “Not everything we do is strictly legal.”

“He _killed our dog_ ,” said Marissa savagely. "We are willing to do _anything_ to punish him."

"Anything short of murder?" Nicky asked.

" _Anything_ ," repeated Thea, darkly.

“O...kay,” said Matt. “Welcome to the Queer Avengers, I guess.”

“I’m really glad you’re not a murderer,” Nicky said to Erik. “Because I am super interested in having sex with you.”

“I… am not opposed,” said Erik.

“So, Randy,” said Marissa. “Which one of the guys here is the boyfriend you told me about?”

“Randy?” asked Kevin.

“Boyfriend?” asked Matt.

“Who wants pie? I do!” Neil exclaimed, jumping to his feet and making his escape.

* * *

That evening Neil’s phone buzzed with a text message. He and Andrew had had a fairly large argument about Neil getting a phone about a month ago, with Neil’s opinion being that he didn’t need a phone and Andrew’s being that he did. Neil had lost, not gracefully, and had spent the next week sulking while Nicky texted him constantly until he was no longer frightened of his phone.

‘43’ the message read. It was from an unlisted number.

“Huh,” said Neil. The previous day he’d received the number ‘44’. Someone was sending him a countdown. He opened a calendar and counted the days. May 29th was the end of the countdown, a date which had no particular meaning. Neil decided that the best way to deal with this was to pretend it wasn’t happening, so he deleted the text message and put his phone away.

Ignoring it was obviously not the smartest thing he could do. If he had investigated he might have discovered that the messages were from Lola Malcolm, a lackey of his father’s. Neil’s sudden resurrection had not gone as unnoticed as he believed. For now Lola was exercising patience, watching and waiting. Somehow young Nathaniel had faked his death and she was not going to act until she knew more. Perhaps the FBI had helped him, hoping to use him as bait to trap her and Nathan.

May 29th was the deadline that she was giving herself to figure everything out. Then, she would be collecting Nathaniel no matter what and delivering him to his father for punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an idea of what Porkchop looks like, [here's a picture of my dog](http://gluupor.tumblr.com/post/171143646913/this-is-my-dog-digby-yes-hes-named-after-the).  
> 


	6. The Death of Charles Whittier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Dan, Robin, and Alvarez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are transgender/genderqueer characters in this chapter. As I am cisgendered, please let me know if anything needs to be changed.

It had been 1 month, 29 days, 8 hours, and 14 minutes since Allison Reynolds had found herself single due to her boyfriend’s sudden death and she was considering moving on. The first couple weeks had been incredibly difficult but she had unexpectedly found herself embroiled in a revenge plot that allowed her to be distracted from her grief. She’d had some more difficult days in late April - the 21st would have been Seth’s 30th birthday - but again her new friends had helped her.

She was still so angry, mostly at Seth. She had seen the drugs at his apartment, drugs that he had acquired by stealing things from his place of work. She had been monitoring his cash flow to make sure he wasn’t using again, but he had found a way around her oversight. Not for the first time she couldn’t help but be incredibly hurt and frustrated. Why had she not been enough for him?

She was aware of Renee’s interest in her - Allison tended to assume that most people were attracted to her as a matter of course - but she did not want a new relationship so soon after Seth’s death. It wasn’t like a break up where she generally found someone to sleep with on the rebound as soon as possible (it was important to show her exes that she didn’t need them and that she was over them pretty much as soon as the break up was finalized).

When Allison had made it clear to Renee that she wasn’t ready to move on yet, Renee had taken it in stride and told her that friendship was important, too. Then a truly strange thing had happened. Renee hadn’t pressured her to be ready, she had simply been her friend. Allison was confused. She knew that she was a catch; one worth waiting for. But, no, Renee had remained friendly and kind, but had begun seeing other women.

Allison was at a loss. She was supposed to be _pursued_ , she was not supposed to be the pursuer. Over the past two months of their acquaintance she had come to appreciate Renee greatly. She liked the glimpses she got of the person underneath Renee’s placid exterior; she felt privileged that she got to know both the person that Renee had been as well as the person she was trying to be. She was aware that as a heiress she presented a juicy target for a former conwoman and thief, but she wanted to take the risk. It was pretty in character: making terrible dating decisions was her usual _modus operandi_. At least the fact that Renee was a woman would annoy her parents just as much as Seth’s race, poverty, and general abrasiveness had.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” asked Renee, nudging Allison aside as she returned to her seat. She passed over a hot dog and a plastic cup of beer. Allison wrinkled her nose at the offerings. “And stop looking at the food like that. I know you’re not as stuck up as you pretend to be.”

Allison sighed a little and relented. She did enjoy things that her upper class parents didn’t approve of, such as exy games and the overpriced food and watered down beer that was sold at the concession stands.

“Besides,” Renee continued, “they charged me $36 for two hot dogs and two beers. It’s basically gourmet.”

Allison snorted. “If it were gourmet the portion sizes would be much smaller.”

They ate in silence for a bit before Renee nudged her shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking of asking you out on a date,” said Allison, because she had never seen the draw in not being direct.

“What’s stopping you?” asked Renee.

“I’ve never asked anyone out before,” admitted Allison. “And I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Well, if it helps, I’m going to say yes,” said Renee.

“That does help ease my worries,” said Allison. “I mean, this is practically already a date. I brought you to an exy game, you bought my food; add in a kiss and we’re all set.”

“A kiss on the first date?” Renee gasped in false offense. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

“Hopefully mine,” replied Allison.

“Smooth,” said Renee, impressed. “Keep that up and I’ll be lifting my skirts for you in no time.”

“Scandalous,” said Allison. “A good Christian girl like you?”

“You’re right,” said Renee, pulling away from Allison slightly. “We should leave room for Jesus.”

“No threesomes yet,” said Allison. “We just started dating.”

“You haven’t actually asked me,” Renee pointed out.

“Fine,” said Allison shortly. “Renee Walker, I am ridiculously enamoured by you. Date me?”

“Eh,” said Renee with a shrug. “I guess.”

* * *

The next morning, as Renee and Allison woke up in the same bed and immediately started getting to know each other biblically again, David Wymack was walking into Andrew Minyard’s pie shop. He knew that the information he was bringing could be communicated over the phone, but he was interested in meeting the few people who had ever been able to tolerate Kevin long enough to be his friends.

Kevin had been 21 years, 9 months, 27 days, 1 hour, and 22 minutes old when Wymack had found out that they were father and son. That was when Kevin had knocked frantically (using his non-shattered hand) on the door to Wymack’s apartment, searching for sanctuary following his escape from Riko Moriyama. As his wife Abby had tended to Kevin’s hand, Kevin had explained what had happened and why he’d come to Wymack. It hit him hard, this betrayal of Kayleigh’s. How could she have left Kevin in the hands of a mob boss instead of with his father?

The following weeks and months had been difficult. Kevin had vacillated between resolve to stay away from Riko and panic about what would happen if he did. He was anxious and depressed and couldn’t even hear the word ‘exy’ without growing angry. Wymack and Abby had weathered his mood swings and, once he’d started recovering and still showed no signs of ever returning to exy, had helped him find gainful employment. Wymack had half-expected that Kevin would follow in his footsteps and become an exy coach, although in retrospect Kevin’s complete disdain for imperfection and his bossiness and impatience would not have been conducive to good coaching. Instead, he’d become a private investigator and until recently Wymack had watched in despair as his son spent most of his time alone; likely due both to his general assholishness coupled with the fact that his childhood would not have taught him how to make friends.

Lately, though, he’d been noticeably happier, his attention focused on getting revenge on Riko, although he still worried about bringing Riko’s wrath down upon himself. For this reason alone, Wymack would be willing to help. In general, he felt a little split over the so-called Queer Avengers’ plan (the adult part of him argued that revenge isn’t conducive to healing; the parent part of him wanted his son’s happiness and if plotting his abuser’s murder made him happy, sobeit; and the hidden-but-not-forgotten delinquent part of him wanted to take a baseball bat to Riko’s knees himself) but he also knew that Kevin would be in danger if the plan was carried out sloppily.

He spotted Kevin as soon as he walked into Go Pie; he was sitting in a booth in the corner along with two extremely short men and one extremely tall man, all of them eating slices of lemon meringue pie. From Kevin’s stories he knew these men to be Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten, and Matt Boyd.

“Coach,” said Kevin in surprise as Wymack walked up to the table. He motioned Kevin to remain sitting when he started to get up. “Is something wrong? I thought you were going to that memorial service today?”

“I did,” said Wymack heavily; it had been a sad morning, remembering his friend. “I think I found some allies for you.”

The facts were these: Charles Whittier, activist lawyer and firearm enthusiast, was 46 years, 3 months, 2 days, 6 hours, and 29 minutes old when his car had spun out of control. The resulting crash had killed him instantly. It was agreed upon by all investigating parties that it had been nothing more than a tragic accident, caused by the wet roads, the setting sun, and Charles’ excessive speed. His law partners had other suspicions.

Charles, who was a transgender man, had started a law firm with Dan Wilds, who identified as non-binary, and Darlene Tran, a Vietnamese trans woman, when they found that prejudice and discrimination were delaying their career progression. They had funded this new venture by arguing and winning lawsuits against their former employers. Modifying the three partners’ names slightly they had branded themselves as Witty, Wild, and Trans Attorneys at Law and filled their firm with other transgender and genderqueer employees.

Charles’ specialty was bringing lawsuits against businesses for the same kind of discrimination that he himself had always experienced. At the time of his death he had been embroiled in litigation against the Moriyamas’ legitimate businesses, bringing them a fair amount of negative press.

“Dan,” said Wymack, “that’s Dan Wilds, the firm’s expert in criminal law - is trying to build a criminal case against Riko, they think that Riko may have had a hand in Chuck’s accident.”

“Well that’s great!” enthused Matt. “What does it have to do with us?”

“Yeah, don’t lawyers like to, you know, follow the law?” asked Neil.

“Dan is incredibly frustrated with the Moriyamas’ ability to wriggle out of facing any consequences; I think that they may be open to tweaking the law a little.”

“They?” asked Kevin.

“Yes, Dan prefers they/them pronouns,” said Wymack. “I hinted to them that you were accumulating evidence against Riko not strictly legally and they seemed intrigued. They were interested in having a meeting with you to discuss whether they could provide any help.”

Kevin looked thoughtful. “We usually hang out here after the shop closes, you could tell them to come by then.”

“Will it take a long time?” Andrew spoke up suddenly. “I had plans to go out tonight.” Neil’s face scrunched in confusion.

Wymack shrugged. “I can't imagine it would take long.”

“Where are you going?” Neil asked.

“Club called Eden’s Twilight,” said Andrew nonchalantly, although something in the way that he was watching Neil’s response caused Wymack to suspect that he wasn’t as uncaring as he seemed. “It’s Friday.”

Neil was still visibly confused. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Have fun?”

Kevin scoffed, but held his peace. Despite the fact that Andrew’s expression didn’t change Wymack didn’t think that he had gotten the reaction he wanted.

* * *

Renee and Allison showed up slightly before Go Pie closed looking very giggly and happy.

“You haven’t responded to any of my texts,” Kevin complained when he saw them. “We have a meeting tonight.”

“We were busy,” said Allison snobbishly.

“Yeah, Kevin,” said Renee, then, with a leer at Allison, “ _Busy_.”

“Oh,” said Kevin in realization. “Congratulations.”

“Hooray!” cheered Nicky. “Everyone’s having sex today!” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’m going out with Erik later, and even Andrew is going out to hook up tonight!”

“Don’t brag,” said Matt grumpily.

There was a knock on the door and it opened to admit three people.

“Wow,” said Matt in admiration, looking at the leader.

“Hello,” they said. “I’m Dan Wilds; David Wymack told me that you were willing to speak with me?”

“About what?” asked Allison.

“You would know, if you answered your phone,” said Kevin peevishly.

“Dan’s a lawyer who also hates Riko,” Neil summed up concisely.

“We’re not exactly… excellent at following the law,” said Renee.

Dan laughed. “Yes, I heard,” they said. “But maybe if we work together - illegally creating a legal case - we might finally be able to catch that slippery son of a bitch?”

Allison smiled. “I think I might like you,” she said. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Mx. Alvarez, my associate,” Dan said. “She prefers to be called Al.”

“Don’t ask for my first name because it is _horrible_ ,” said Al with a smile. “Also, right now I’m using she/her pronouns, but I’m genderfluid so my pronouns change. I’ll let you know.”

“And this is Robin Cross, ze is my apprentice and prefers ze/hir pronouns,” said Dan. “They/them for me, please.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Renee pleasantly. “I’m Renee and this is Allison, we both use she/her pronouns; Matt, Andrew, Neil, Kevin, and Nicky all use he/him.”

Dan, Robin, and Al all took seats around the tables that Nicky and Matt had pushed together. “According to David, you all have grudges against Riko.”

“Uh, could you call him Wymack? Or maybe Coach?” asked Kevin. “It’s too weird to refer to him as David.”

Dan’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Isn’t he your father?” they asked.

“It’s completely normal to call your father by his last name,” muttered Kevin.

“Yeah, Kevin,” said Neil. “ _Completely_ normal. If you look up ‘normal’ in the dictionary, there’s a picture of you.”

Kevin looked affronted. “Well it’s not like the rest of you are normal!” he argued.

“What’s abnormal about a former exy star, a billionaire heiress, a pie maker, a conwoman, Matt, and a murder victim seeking vengeance against a member of the yakuza by framing him for murder?” joked Renee.

“...Murder victim?” asked Robin.

“Riko tried to kill Neil,” explained Matt. “Luckily he didn’t succeed; Neil faked his death.”

“Yup,” said Neil agreeably. “I didn’t let him get the drop on me, no way. Totally stayed alive through that entire encounter.”

“He tried to kill you himself?” asked Dan in interest.

“No, he contracted my murder out,” said Neil.

“Can you prove he was involved?” asked Al. “Would the hitman turn on him, perhaps?”

“The hitman was later killed during a home invasion,” said Kevin. “A blind man shot him with a shotgun.”

Robin blinked. “Why did he have a shotgun?”

“That’s what I said,” Kevin said in excited exasperation.

“My mother was also killed by that hitman,” supplied Renee. “And Allison’s late boyfriend received tainted drugs from someone we believe to be employed by Riko.”

“I’m guessing you have no proof?” Dan asked while taking notes in some sort of obscure shorthand. “So no one else can read it or understand it,” they explained when Allison asked.

“No proof,” said Neil. “But we also know of a couple other deaths that were accidental that we were hoping to pin on Riko.”

“My father died when a pigeon flew out of the cockpit and into the propeller of his plane,” said Matt, “and our friends’ business partner, Louis Andritch, slipped on coffee that he mistakenly believed to be poisoned and fell on a sharp dog brush, stabbing himself.”

Al stared. “Everything you just said is absurd.”

“You’d better get used to it if you’re going to join us,” said Kevin.

“Okay,” said Dan, snapping their notebook shut. “I think we can work with this. We probably shouldn't mention Neil, but the deaths of Renee's mother, Allison's boyfriend, Matt's father, Louis Andritch, and of course Charles can most likely be blamed on Riko. You six work on finding more accidental deaths that could be murders orchestrated by Riko and we’ll work on turning what we have so far into a legitimate legal case. You’ll definitely need to fabricate evidence; we’ll let you know what’s required.”

“Well,” said Allison. “That was surprisingly easy. Partners?”

“Partners,” agreed Dan. “Thank you for your time, we’ll be in touch.” They and their two associates stood up to leave.

“Let me escort you out, milaaaaaaaaa-” Matt trailed off when he realized that ‘milady’ was not an appropriate term. “Miperson?” he tried sheepishly.

Dan laughed unabashedly. “Good save,” they practically giggled.

“I don’t think of you as a lady,” Matt said quickly. “I respect your gender.”

Dan eyed Matt incredibly obviously and gave him a dirty smile. “Good,” they said. “You can walk me out.”

“See you guys tomorrow,” Matt said with an absent wave, not taking his eyes off of Dan. Robin and Al both rolled their eyes expressively, but made their farewells and followed Matt and Dan out of the shop.

“Huh,” said Nicky, watching Matt and Dan leave while openly flirting. “Maybe Matt’s getting sex tonight after all.”

* * *

Andrew was trying to concentrate on what he was doing - making out with a willing bartender - but he couldn’t get the the image of ice-blue eyes and unpractised smiles out of his mind. He tightened his fist in Roland’s hair and tamped down his disappointment that it wasn’t soft-looking curls between his fingers; the hair he wanted to run his hand through though he was not allowed.

He growled in frustration and pushed himself away from Roland.

“This isn’t working,” he complained.

“Wow,” drawled Roland. “Should I be insulted?”

“Don’t get confused about what this is,” warned Andrew.

“I’m not,” said Roland. “I know it’s just release for both of us.” He looked at Andrew thoughtfully. “Who’s the guy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Suuure,” said Roland. “You haven’t been in for a couple months and now that you’re here you’re distracted and obviously trying to put someone out of your mind. So who is he?”

“You and I are not friends,” said Andrew.

“Oh, come on,” cajoled Roland. “I know you’ve had good times with me in the past, even if you won’t let me put my hands on you. I follow all of your rules. Can’t you just indulge my curiosity?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Andrew, leaving the back room of the bar. “He’s someone I can’t have.”

He gave up on distraction for the night and made his way home. Neil was snuggled on the couch. He paused the movie he was watching when Andrew came in.

“You’re back early,” he said in surprise. He had been worried earlier when Andrew had told him that he was going out - Andrew had never left him alone in the evening before - but then Nicky had said that Andrew was going out to hook up. Sometimes Neil forgot that other people were interested in sex and needed to sate their desires. He found the entire idea completely foreign. He didn’t seem to have a sex drive, but if he did he couldn’t imagine wanting to be with anyone who he didn’t know and trust.

The thought of Andrew hooking up with someone didn’t affect him, but it did leave him wondering: did Andrew share his thoughts with that faceless stranger? Did he share the parts of himself that Neil had thought that he’d only shared with him? Thinking of that caused his gut to churn; it bothered him much more than he expected.

“Did you have a good time?” Neil asked, and then winced. He didn’t want to seem nosy or judgmental.

“I… no,” said Andrew.

“Couldn’t find anyone you were interested in?”

“I’m never interested in them,” said Andrew. “They’re a means to an end.”

“You couldn’t find someone hot enough to get you off?” said Neil awkwardly, trying to joke.

“I don’t,” started Andrew, then paused before continuing, “I don’t let other people touch me.”

“Then what’s the point?” asked Neil, genuinely confused. From what he understood about sex, the main draw was that orgasms felt good and they felt even better when they were provided by someone other than yourself.

Andrew considered the question seriously. “Power,” he said. “I'm in control of the other person's pleasure. Proving to myself that my abusers couldn’t completely ruin this for me. Experiencing sex on my own terms.”

Neil nodded in understanding. “Sorry you didn’t have a good night.”

Andrew examined Neil thoughtfully. “I think it turned out alright,” he admitted. “What are you watching?”

“Thor: Ragnarok,” answered Neil. “It’s near the beginning, I can start again if you want to watch with me.”

“Sure,” said Andrew. “Still working your way through the Marvel movies?”

“Matt said it was necessary since we’re the Queer Avengers,” said Neil. “I’ve been trying to figure out who the rest of you are since Renee said that she’s Black Widow and I’m Captain America.”

Andrew sat on the couch and draped his arm across the back. Neil was safely wrapped in a blanket as well as his hooded onesie so he was safe from Andrew’s touch. “Which Avenger is Kevin, then?” said Andrew.

“Well,” replied Neil, “we were brought together by his adopted brother screwing with us, so he’s obviously Thor.”

“He’s also of the opinion that he’s a god,” agreed Andrew.

Neil snorted. “Allison provides money and snark, so she’s Iron Man,” he continued. “Matt’s befriended me and is helping me catch up on all the pop culture that I don’t understand... and I usually act like a smug asshole when I run faster than him, so he’s the Falcon.”

“Nicky?”

“Luis from Ant-Man,” said Neil decisively. “He’s around to support us and provide comic relief, and he’s both talkative and Hispanic.”

“Aaron?”

“The Hulk. He seems like a mild-mannered science type but there is definitely a rage monster hiding inside.”

“And me?”

“I thought it was obvious,” said Neil. “You’re Bucky Barnes, after The Winter Soldier.”

“Why?”

“Well, horrible things were done to him, people took ownership of his body without his permission, but he outlasted everyone who hurt him,” said Neil. “After everything, he regained autonomy and worked hard to try to find happiness. And he protects his best friend, Captain America.”

Andrew was quiet for a time, his thoughts reeling. “I don’t think you’re Captain America,” he finally said in a rough voice.

“No?” asked Neil. "Who am I, then?

“You’re Steve Rogers before the serum. Small and fighty.”

Neil gave a small, surprised laugh. “And willing to do absolutely anything for Bucky Barnes.” He gave Andrew a meaningful look.

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Andrew, feeling wrung out. “I am not your answer, and you sure as fuck aren’t mine.”

“I know,” said Neil simply, then picked up a pillow and placed it on Andrew’s lap. With Andrew’s permission, he lay across the couch, his head on the pillow turned towards the television. “I’m a little worried after watching Civil War, though. You, too, were used as a weapon to kill someone our Iron Man cared for. I wonder what will happen when Allison finds out.”

“Nothing good,” predicted Andrew.

Neil made a noise of agreement. “This okay?” he asked, getting comfortable on the pillow in Andrew’s lap.

Andrew looked down at Neil in consternation and tentatively placed his hand on Neil’s hood-covered head, stroking along the hair he could feel through the fabric. Neil hummed happily and Andrew’s breath caught. He realized that he vastly preferred this to what he’d been doing earlier with Roland. This simple companionship and intimacy that he shared with Neil made him feel more content and settled than he ever had before. He had been discussing this with Betsy recently; whether he would be able to be satisfied with a completely asexual relationship. If tonight told him anything, it was that he was in deep, deep trouble. It was pretty indicative of his luck, he thought, that the first person he would ever feel anything for would be the one person that he could never, ever touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **me to me:** _No_ , you are _not_ writing an Avengers AU. You are writing at least four other things right now. Stop it.


	7. The Death of James Rhemann

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Jean, Jeremy, and Laila.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter references physical abuse (Jean and Kevin's past with Riko), and briefly features a non-graphic suicide attempt.

Kevin Day was at this moment standing on an empty exy court and wincing at how inaccurate his shots were with his left hand. Unbeknownst to everyone, he had been regularly sneaking onto his father’s court to try to reclaim his former glory. But his skills had not returned as he had hoped. He needed someone to train with, but he wasn’t willing to ask anyone who would look at him in pity. What he needed was someone with similar experiences to his own, but he didn’t think that such a person existed. Disgusted with his inability to improve, he left the court grumpily and made his way across town for morning pie.

He almost spit out the exceedingly sweet monstrosity as soon as he put it in his mouth. “What is this?” he demanded.

“Neil made it,” said Nicky. "It's... sweet."

“It’s a traditional québécoise tarte au sucre à la crème,” said Neil. At Kevin’s blank look, he explained, “Sugar pie. I thought Andrew would like it. I also thought you spoke French.”

“I do,” said Kevin, feeling sad because of why he spoke French. “I’m surprised that you know how to make sugar pie. And appalled that you would.”

“I lived in Montréal for fourteen months,” said Neil. “And I baked it for Andrew. If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“I like it,” said Andrew.

“You would,” scoffed Kevin. “You’ve probably dulled the ability of your taste buds to detect refined sugar.”

“You’d think you’d be sweeter with the amount of sugar you consume,” said Nicky.

The door to the shop opened noisily and Neil flinched.

“What’s wrong?” Andrew asked, turning to see who had caused the reaction. “You’ve been twitchy this morning.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Neil, a little strain showing in his eyes. “I was just worried about ruining the pie and the door opening surprised me, is all.”

Andrew eyed him suspiciously but was prevented from saying anything by Betsy Dobson approaching their table.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly.

“Hello, Bee,” said Andrew, using the new nickname he had bestowed upon her. He wondered why she was here. Lately in their sessions she had been strongly suggesting that he talk to Neil about his feelings; he mostly agreed with her but hadn’t been able to gather his courage at any opportune time. He figured that he had time to work out what he wanted to say; Neil wasn’t going anywhere for now.

“Betsy!” said Nicky happily. “Are you coming to my birthday party tonight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” said Betsy kindly. “Thea and Marissa and, of course, Erik are all planning on being there as well. In the meantime, I have a case for you.”

“Oh?” said Kevin, perking up in interest.

“One of my patients, whose name is Martin but otherwise wishes to remain anonymous, just lost his best friend.”

“Like… his dog?” asked Nicky.

“No, his human best friend,” said Betsy.

The facts were-

“Hey guys, I have a case for you,” said Alvarez, approaching their table. “A client, named Kathy who doesn’t want to provide her last name, just lost her best friend.”

“That sounds familiar,” said Andrew. “What was the friend’s name?”

“James Rhemann,” Betsy and Al said in unison and then exchanged surprised looks.

“Martin said that he and James spent a lot of time watching sports, hiking, and going out for wings,” said Betsy.

“Kathy said and she and James were BFFs. They went shopping, out for martinis, and to fashion shows,” supplied Al.

“O...kay,” said Kevin. “How about you two question Martin and Kathy about James and we’ll start investigating?”

“It’s weird, right?” Kevin asked later as he and Neil and Andrew walked into the morgue.

“I don’t know,” said Neil. “People can have more than one friend, something that I have discovered recently.”

“I meant that James was so different depending on who was spending time with him,” said Kevin.

“Maybe he just molded himself into whatever he thought that others wanted,” suggested Neil.

“Do you do that?” asked Andrew.

“I really don’t read social cues well enough to do that,” said Neil. “But you must have noticed that Renee’s pretty good at it.”

“Look alive people!” Kevin called from across the room. Neil looked at him incredulously. “...Forget I said that,” he muttered. “Andrew, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Hi James,” said Neil once James had blinked alive again. “You’re in the morgue. Bad luck, but we’re looking for whoever it was that put you here.”

“I’m dead?” asked James in disbelief.

“Yes, your body was found in the Evermore neighbourhood of town,” said Kevin.

“What?” asked James, taken aback. “No, that can’t be right. I don’t believe my best friend would do that.”

“Which best friend?” asked Kevin. “Martin or Kathy?”

James’ face softened. “You know them?” he asked. “That’s great. They’re going to need someone to look after them, if I’m dead.”

“How did you die?” asked Andrew.

“The last thing I remember was getting a hug from my pal Hugsy,” shrugged James. “I guess it was too tight.”

“You were killed by someone hugging you,” said Neil flatly.

James chuckled. “Well it sounds silly when you say it like that. Listen, this was great and all but I’ve got to go see my roommate; he isn’t great at being alone, so I need him to know I’m alright.”

“You’re very clearly not,” protested Kevin, as James tried to get up and Andrew re-deaded him before he could get away. “That was incredibly uninformative,” complained Kevin.

“He told us he was killed by his best friend Hugsy hugging him,” said Neil. “Seems like an open and shut case.”

“Nobody is named Hugsy and you can’t die from being hugged,” protested Kevin, sounding on the verge of hysteria. “His body was found near Riko’s base of operations. Obviously something else is going on.”

“Hey Aaron,” said Neil on their way out. “How was James Rhemann killed? Hugging?”

“What? No,” said Aaron, before pausing. “Or maybe. His chest was crushed. I’ve never seen an injury like that, but my boss said that he’d once examined a man who’d been killed by a boa constrictor and the injuries were similar.”

“Hugged by a snake?” asked Andrew.

“It was too localized to be a snake,” said Aaron impatiently. “That was just a comparison. And why are you so obsessed with hugging?” A look of distaste passed over his face.

“Could a person have caused that type of injury?” asked Kevin.

“Only if they were a supersoldier,” said Aaron.

“There you have it,” said Neil. “He was hugged to death by Captain America.”

“Mmm-hmm,” said Aaron. “Get out of my office.”

* * *

“Hey,” said Robin as the three of them tramped back into Go Pie. “Al cross-examined Kathy and sent me to give you the information.”

“Telephones are a thing that exist you know,” said Andrew.

Robin had a slight smile on hir face. “But then I wouldn’t get pie,” ze said, indicating the slice of chocolate pie in front of hir. “Anyway,” ze continued as the three of them took their seats, “apparently James was a frescort.”

“A… I’m sorry, did you say escort?” asked Kevin.

“No,” said Robin happily. “A FRescort. Otherwise known as a friend-escort. He worked for a company that provides friends for those willing to pay. Al told me that his own girlfriend Laila also works there.” Ze passed Kevin a business card that read MY BEST FRIEND, INC.

“I don’t believe that My Best Friend would do that…” said Kevin thoughtfully, repeating James’ words from earlier.

“This whole business seems shady,” said Neil. "Seems like a cover for prostitution."

“That’s what I thought, too, but Al said that Laila loves it. Apparently there are strict contracts and there is no sexual contact allowed between frescorts and clients. It’s aimed at people who have trouble making friends.”

“Rich people who have trouble making friends,” corrected Andrew.

Robin nodded in agreement. “According to Laila the frescorts are supposed to work with their clients to help them make connections to real people, which I think sounds unlikely since then they’d be losing their client base.”

“Not necessarily,” said Neil, sounding far away. “There’s always going to be plenty of lonely people who just want a friend.”

“Don’t hurt yourself projecting so hard,” said Andrew.

“We’ve got to go check on James’ roommate,” said Kevin. “Then we can go talk to the people at My Best Friend, Inc.”

“Laila offered to sneak you guys in,” said Robin. “She said she’d give you a recommendation if you wanted to pretend to try to get recruited.”

“As frescorts?” asked Neil. He looked at Kevin and Andrew. “Us?”

“Good point,” said Robin. “Maybe you could go in as potential clients. That’s much more believable.”

“You two will have to go without me,” said Andrew. “I’ve still got baking to do before Nicky’s party tonight.”

“Oh, right,” said Robin. “Can you tell Nicky that Dan, Al, and I are all definitely coming? We’re looking forward to it.”

“If hosting parties is what I get for socializing more, I really don’t see the benefit,” grumbled Andrew.

“See you later,” said Neil with a smile and Andrew had to admit that yes, he could see a benefit.

* * *

Kevin and Neil walked through the dingy hallways of a cheap apartment building.

“Brings back memories,” said Neil. “There are fewer blood stains than I expected, though.”

“I imagined that James would live in a nicer place than this,” remarked Kevin.

“Why?” asked Neil. “Do you think that frescorts get paid a lot?”

“Probably more than you do.”

Neil was vaguely amused. “I’m an unemployed legally dead former runaway who spends his days alternating between following around a private investigator and helping in a pie shop. Everybody makes more money than I do. Homeless people who pick up change off the sidewalk make more than I do. Children who are visited by the tooth fairy make more than I do.”

“You really should do something about getting an income,” said Kevin.

“You really should start paying me for the the work I do with you.”

“Never mind,” said Kevin.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” said Neil, suddenly melancholy.

“What do you mean by that?” inquired Kevin, marking the change in Neil’s tone.

Neil waved him off and knocked on the door to apartment 533. They could hear shuffling inside before the door was cracked open. It was dark in the apartment and they couldn’t see the occupant.

“Yes?” said a deep, male voice.

“Hello,” said Neil pleasantly. “We’re private investigators and we are looking into the death of your roommate. James Rhemann?”

“I don’t know anything about that,” said the man and the door started to close.

“Wait,” said Kevin, pushing Neil out of the way. “Can you tell us who James’ best friend was?”

“...Kevin?” the man inside the apartment said, sounding in awe. “Is that you?” The door slowly opened inward to show a tall man with dark hair, deep under eye circles, and a number three tattooed on his cheek. It matched the 2 on Kevin’s face - forced there by Riko so that they’d always know they were inferior.

“Jean?” asked Kevin in disbelief. “I thought you were dead.”

Jean laughed without humour. “I thought I was, too.”

The facts were these: Jean Moreau had been sold to the Moriyama family to repay his father’s debt when he was 12 years, 4 months, 4 days, 3 hours, and 34 minutes old. From there, he’d been given to Riko to join Kevin as a pet. Kevin had been thrilled; on the day of his fifteenth birthday, Riko had declared himself too busy to waste his time on a children’s game like exy. He had had to prepare himself to one day take over his father’s empire. Kevin was skeptical about that since he was pretty sure that Riko’s father, Kengo, and his older brother, Ichirou, gave him busy work so that he would feel important, but he had learned many years before not to voice opinions, especially those that Riko wouldn’t like. Kevin had immediately taken to Jean, coaxing him into playing exy together with the goal of them both becoming stars one day. When they had still been teenagers Riko had allowed such delusions, but once Kevin had hit his twenties and still hadn’t given up the dream, Riko had decided to make him. Jean had tried to help, to stop Riko from damaging Kevin, and had been severely beaten for his efforts. Afterwards, when Kevin had been contemplating leaving, had gone to look for Jean, finding him gone and blood stains in his place. Kevin had believed that Riko had killed Jean in retribution and his resolve to leave had strengthened.

Jean had not been killed, but was gravely injured. Riko had deigned to bring a doctor to patch up his wounds, but the next several months were a haze of pain as Riko reacted violently to Kevin’s defection. Kengo had forbidden Riko from trying to get Kevin back because he thought that David Wymack would bring police and media attention to the Moriyamas should Kevin return to them. Jean had endured, as he had for years. He thought that he should maybe be angry at Kevin for leaving without him, but he didn’t begrudge him his freedom. Had he been given the chance he also would have left and never looked back.

The previous December, Jean had finally had enough. On a cold night a few days after Christmas, he had left Riko and made his way to a downtown bridge. He climbed over the railing and looked down. He was 22 years, 9 months, 23 days, 5 hours, and 4 minutes old and he wanted to be no older. The reason he was still alive was due to James Rhemann. He had seen Jean, talked him off the ledge, and taken him home. Jean’s fear of Riko’s retribution kept him inside, but James hadn’t minded. As someone who befriended people for a living, he seemed to instinctively know what Jean needed of him. Jean had slowly been recovering, but the death of the only person who had ever seemed to give a damn about him had set him back.

“You can’t stay here,” said Kevin decisively. “You’re going to come home with me.”

“I don’t know if I can,” said Jean hesitantly.

“We need any information you have,” said Kevin. “We’re working with lawyers to take down Riko.”

Jean flinched. “He’ll never forgive us.”

“We’ll be safe,” said Kevin, almost sounding as if he believed it. “I have a support system now, and you can too if you come with me. I know you don’t like being alone any more than I do.”

“Don’t you think there’s too much history between us?”

“Then we’ll find you someone else to live with,” said Kevin desperately. “Please come with me.” He paused and glanced towards Neil, who was pretending to examine the walls a little farther down the hall to give them the semblance of privacy. “...I’ve been missing you for years.”

“Plus, we’re going to solve the murder of your friend,” put in Neil, shattering the illusion that he wasn’t eavesdropping.

* * *

Kevin had wanted to take Jean back to the pie shop right away, but Jean had wanted to forge ahead with investigating James’ death, so they ended up outside of the My Best Friend Inc. headquarters. A buff, bubbly, brunette woman met them and introduced herself as Laila, Al’s girlfriend.

“We’re all so broken up about James’ death,” said Laila. “Especially Jeremy, one of the senior frescorts. He’s been beside himself for days, all jumpy and weepy.”

“So… acting guilty, you mean?” asked Neil.

“Well, yes,” admitted Laila. “But I do not believe that he’s capable of murdering someone. He won’t even kill spiders; he catches them and escorts them outdoors. He lets mosquitoes bite him because ‘they deserve life, too, Laila,’” she mimicked.

“James was very fond of him,” said Jean hesitantly. “He saw him as a protégé of sorts. I hope that he was not involved.”

“Come on,” said Laila. “You can talk to him yourselves and see what I mean.”

She led them through colourful hallways filled with pictures of groups of people smiling at the cameras and engaging in different activities. She knocked on a door that had a nameplate of JEREMY KNOX and was covered pictures of a sunny-faced man posing with multiple different people, looking ecstatic and excited in every photo. Laila led them in without waiting for an answer.

“Jeremy, this is Kevin Day, a private investigator looking into James’ death,” she said.

The happy man from the pictures was nowhere to be seen, as Jeremy burst into hysterical tears. “It was an accident!” he cried, raising his arms out towards them in supplication.

Kevin, Neil, and Jean all took a measured step back, uncomfortable with the naked show of emotion.

“What was an accident?” demanded Laila sounding horror-struck. “Were you _involved_? Did you _kill him_?”

“No!” cried Jeremy, aghast. “How could you ask me that?”

“It _was_ pretty heavily implied,” said Neil.

“No!” cried Jeremy again. “I would _never_! I just… I found him. When he was already dead. And I knew he wouldn’t want to be found like that, so I took him somewhere else.”

“You disposed of the body,” provided Kevin.

“Please don’t refer to James as a body,” said Jean.

“Okay, go back,” said Laila. “ _Where_ did you find him? And why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

“I panicked!” said Jeremy. “And Hugsy was his pride and joy; I didn’t want anyone else to know what happened.”

“Wait, Hugsy?” asked Neil.

“Who’s Hugsy?” asked Kevin.

“Hugsy killed him?” asked Jean in disbelief.

Jeremy led them into a larger room behind his office. There was a contraption there; it was rectangular, roughly the size of an adult male, covered in soft, red felt, and had two mechanical arms. “This is Hugsy,” he said. “It’s a hugging machine.”

“A hugging machine,” Neil repeated dryly.

Kevin massaged his temples. “Why is everything so ridiculous?” he muttered.

“It’s important for us frescorts to be able to give the perfect hug: it has to remain platonic, but still needs to be tight and comforting. Our clients rely on us to get it just right. James designed Hugsy as a teaching tool and to be able to give hugs to those who don’t like human contact,” explained Jeremy.

Jean was looking at the hugging machine in awe. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting it,” he said.

“What happened?” Laila asked. “Hugsy’s always worked fine in the past.”

“Yes, but James was convinced that the hugs weren’t strong enough,” said Jeremy. “I warned him that too tight wasn’t good either, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Jean nodded sagely. “He has been obsessed recently.”

“I told him that I didn’t think that he should make it squeeze harder, but he ignored me and tested it himself without telling me,” said Jeremy, his eyes filling with fresh tears. “Damn idiot flew too close to the sun.”

“And you didn’t want anyone to know that his own hugging machine had killed him?” asked Kevin.

“He loved that thing,” said Laila. “He wouldn’t want Hugsy taken apart, he’d want it to be giving hugs to touch-starved people.”

“So when I found him dead, I made sure he wouldn’t be found here,” said Jeremy sounding ashamed. “I know it was illegal, and you have to have me arrested, but-”

“No,” said Jean, cutting him off. “It’s what he would have wanted. We won’t turn you in.”

Jeremy looked up at him in awe. “You’re Jean, right? James’ roommate? He spoke about you often.” Jean nodded, looking overwhelmed. “Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll do anything I can to make it up to you.”

“Well…” said Jean, with a glance at Kevin. “Are you perhaps looking for a roommate?”

* * *

Neil and Kevin returned to the pie shop with Jean, Jeremy, and Laila in tow. They’d given a bare-bones account of their revenge plot against Riko since James’ death could possibly be pinned on him, and the three of them had enthusiastically signed up to be members of the Queer Avengers.

“Did you bring home more strays?” Andrew asked in exasperation when they arrived.

“Look on the bright side,” Neil replied. “At least we’re not bringing home cats. People can feed themselves and they go home at the end of the night.”

“And they don’t lick themselves in the middle of your living room,” added Nicky helpfully. “Well… most of them don’t. I hope these people don’t.” He shook himself. “Welcome to my birthday party!” he said to the newcomers. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

Neil’s phone buzzed and he glanced at it, before stuffing it back in his pocket.

“Who was that?” asked Andrew. “Everyone you know is here.”

“Wrong number,” said Neil and then followed Andrew back into the kitchen. He started helping Andrew roll up leftover dough in saran wrap for use the next day.

Eventually he stopped, tightly gripping a piece of saran wrap between his hands and took a deep breath before turning to Andrew.

“Andrew, I… I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you,” he said, and Andrew froze. He didn’t dare breathe or move until he knew what Neil was saying. “It’s not… it’s not that I want to have sex with you, because I still don’t, and I don’t think I would want to even if we could touch… but I like being around you. You make me feel warm and safe and like I want to stay with you forever. And maybe like I’d like to kiss you, if that wouldn’t end up with me dead.”

“I would let you,” said Andrew in a low voice. “If it wouldn’t kill you.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” Neil lifted the saran wrap so that it was touching Andrew’s face. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Andrew’s cheek. Andrew turned and let their lips brush through the plastic. Neil sighed against him and relaxed, kissing him again before taking a step back and lowering his hands. “...Thank you,” he said. “You are amazing.”

Andrew reached up and grasped the back of Neil’s neck through his hoodie. “Neil, I-”

“Andrew!” came Nicky’s loud whine. “Where’s the birthday pie?”

“Go on,” said Neil, the side of his mouth quirking upwards.

“We’ll talk later,” said Andrew seriously and took out the pies he had prepared for Nicky.

“ _There_ you are gorgeous,” said Nicky, “and you, too, Andrew.” He grinned. “Happy birthday to me!”

“Your birthday was May 23rd,” Andrew pointed out.

“So?” challenged Nicky.

“It’s the 29th,” said Andrew.

Nicky shrugged. “Birthday week! Plus, this was the first day that all my friends were available!”

“Yay Queer Avengers!” cheered Renee.

“I have a question about that,” said Dan. “What happens when we’re all avenged? Will we just disband? Stop being friends?”

“Of course not!” said Matt, sounding shocked that they would suggest that.

“Yeah, we’ll just have to re-brand,” said Allison. “Team Fabulous.”

“Justice league,” said Robin.

“The Best and Most Greatest People in the World,” was Nicky’s idea.

“Kevin Day and his associates,” said Kevin.

“Foxes,” put in Wymack.

“Nosy Assholes,” suggested Aaron.

“Queers who love pie,” said Renee.

Andrew backed away from the conversation, letting himself observe from a distance. He’d been content in his life before, but maybe he just hadn’t realized what he was missing. He couldn’t believe the changes that had occurred ever since-

His thoughts stopped short and he looked around, his subconscious having registered an absence before he was aware of it. “Where the hell is Neil?” he demanded. Kevin’s head whipped around at his question.

Several things were coming together in his mind. Neil’s twitchiness for the past couple days, his insistence of making a pie specifically for Andrew this morning, how sad his smiles had gotten… that had been his _goodbye_ in the kitchen.

“I’m sure he’s just stepped out somewhere,” said Matt, although he sounded worried.

“No,” said Andrew as he spotted Neil’s phone abandoned on the kitchen counter. “He’s gone.” He flipped open the phone and read the last text. His stomach knotted and he had to prevent himself from hurling the phone away in anger. Goddamn martyr. “He’s been taken.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a training course all week, so I won't be able to write during my breaks at work like I usually do. As such, I'm not sure when the next chapter may be written; hopefully next weekend.


	8. The Death of Nathan Wesninski

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queer Avengers Assemble!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has non-graphic references to torture. Hooray!

Depending on which date of birth was used - the start of his first life or of his second - Neil was either 23 years, 4 months, 11 days, 15 hours, and 40 minutes old or 2 months, 18 days, 8 hours, and 44 minutes old, and he was travelling towards what he was sure would be his second death in the company of Lola Malcolm.

“Oh, Junior,” she giggled. “You’re so stupid. You were free and clear. We thought you were dead; we were never going to look for you again. You should have run. But instead you, what? Made _friends_?” She scoffed. “This is why you were never good enough. You’re too weak.”

“Maybe,” allowed Neil. “But I don’t regret it.”

Lola’s smile was both hard and sharp. “You will.”

Meanwhile, back at Go Pie, Neil’s absence had just been noted.

“What do you mean, he’s been _taken_?” demanded Kevin following Andrew's announcement.

“‘Junior: Come outside and get in the car without a fuss or everyone in the shop dies’,” Matt read off of Neil’s phone after Andrew shoved it into his chest. “It’s from an unknown number.”

Kevin went pale. “It’s from his father or his father’s people; they call him Junior.”

“His father’s _people_?” asked Allison shrilly.

Kevin grimaced. “His father is Nathan Wesninski.”

“The Butcher?” asked Dan. “He’s come up a lot when I’ve been looking into Riko’s businesses.”

“He’s a Moriyama associate,” supplied Jean.

“Neil is actually named Nathaniel Wesninski,” said Renee.

“I knew Neil was familiar!” exclaimed Aaron. “But, wait. Nathaniel Wesninski is dead.”

“He faked his death,” said Matt.

“No,” insisted Aaron. “I helped with the postmortem. He was definitely dead.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” said Wymack. “Right now we should be focusing on his kidnapping.”

“What does his father want with him?” asked Dan.

“To kill him,” said Kevin darkly. “...Eventually.”

There were a couple beats of silence before angry, disbelieving shouting filled the shop.

“Hey, hey, HEY!” cried Wymack. “Everybody calm down.”

Andrew was vibrating in place, his panic and anger preventing him from any useful actions. Bee suddenly appeared in front of him, handing him an ice cube which she had retrieved from the freezer in the kitchen. Andrew tightened his fist and let the stabbing cold pain focus his thoughts.

“We need to get him back,” he growled.

“We’re working on it,” she assured him. “You need to keep calm; can you do that?”

He clenched his jaw and nodded. He would force himself to be calm until they found Neil and then he would unleash these unwanted feelings on the people who had taken him.

In the few minutes it had taken Betsy to centre Andrew’s thoughts, Dan and Wymack had taken control of all the panicking party guests.

“Okay,” Wymack was saying, “we just have to narrow down where he’s been taken and go get him back. Kevin, if the Butcher works for the Moriyamas, then you must have some idea where he might be found?”

Kevin nodded quickly, his eyes wide and afraid. “I can make a list of all the places I remember where he does business.”

“I’ll help,” added Jean.

“We know he was taken in a car,” said Dan. “Does anyone know someone who could access city traffic cameras?”

“I’ll call the mayor,” said Allison, taking her phone out of her purse. “He owes me a favour.”

“Oh!” said Nicky, suddenly. “I got security cameras installed in the shop after a spate of robberies in the area last year. Maybe they’ll show the car we’re looking for!”

“I have a part-time side job as a photographer,” said Laila. “I have a lot of experience in photo and video manipulation, I can help you go through the footage.”

“I’ll get my dog,” said Thea. “He’s an excellent tracker.”

“Excellent,” said Wymack. “Abby, you should get together first aid supplies; if Neil’s faked his death he can’t very well go to a hospital if he’s been injured.”

“Aaron and I can help, too,” offered Katelyn.

“One last thing,” said Dan. “If we’re taking on the mob, we’re going to need weapons.”

“I have a lot of knives,” said Renee. “And there’s more in the kitchen here.”

“The gym where I work offers self-defence lessons,” said Matt. “We sell defensive weapons like pepper spray and brass knuckles; I can go pick those up.”

“I have a large number of heavy exy racquets at the court,” said Wymack. “They can function as pretty effective bludgeons.”

“And Charles left me his collection of firearms,” supplied Dan. “Some are antique and useless, but there are more modern guns and ammo. Robin and Al, could you come with me to help collect them?”

“Okay, then Erik go with Matt, Marissa help Renee, and Jeremy come with me,” said Wymack. “Everyone know what they’re doing? Good.”

“Let’s get our Neil back,” said Matt.

* * *

Andrew lost himself a little in gathering all the knives he had that could be used to teach the people who had taken Neil a lesson. Betsy stuck close by, keeping him grounded and present, but not bothering him with platitudes.

It was pretty impressive what a group of motivated people could achieve; in a short period of time they had four possible locations where Neil may have been taken. There was no guarantee that he was still there, but at least they had the beginnings of a trail.

Andrew found himself on a team with Betsy, Kevin, Aaron, Allison, and Renee investigating a large garage. Renee performed a perimeter check before she let the rest of them enter. Inside, they found the car that Neil had been abducted in and a dead body lying beside it. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the car, turning Andrew’s stomach. What was happening to Neil?

The dead man had a bullet directly in the middle of his forehead, as if he had been executed after he had performed what was required of him.

“Well, where did they take him?” demanded Allison looking around in distaste.

“They probably changed cars,” said Renee. She kicked the dead man. “Too bad he’s dead; I want to ask him some questions.”

“You can,” Andrew said in a rough voice. Everybody whirled to look at him.

“Are you sure?” Kevin asked quietly.

“He might know where Neil is,” replied Andrew. “Renee, you’ll have to do the questioning, I won’t be able to touch him.”

“Alright…?” said Renee, sounding lost.

“Kevin-” said Andrew.

“I’ll keep time,” said Kevin. “No matter what, I won’t let it last longer than a minute.”

Andrew nodded, and then motioned Renee forwards. He leaned down and touched the man’s head. He blinked awake instantly.

Renee wasted no time. She positioned herself on the man’s chest, pinning him down and holding a knife to his throat. “Where is Nathaniel Wesninski?” she asked harshly. Andrew’s hands twitched at the sound of Neil’s forbidden name.

“What… what’s going on?” said the man in confusion.

Renee pushed the knife in deeper. “I won’t ask again,” she said. “I’m not sure if you believe in hell, but you will once I’m done with you.”

“I don’t know where they took the kid!” the man said in distress. “I was just supposed to drive the car here and then they’d pay me!”

Renee cut a line along his collarbone. “You will definitely regret lying to me.”

“I’m not! I swear!” cried the man. “I didn’t even know why they wanted him! It wasn’t personal; I needed the money.”

“It was personal to him,” said Andrew. “ _Where is he_?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” shouted the man as Renee continued drawing patterns in his skin. “She never told me! All I heard was that she was taking Junior to his daddy and something about Baltimore!”

Kevin gave an in-drawn gasp. “I know where he is,” he said. “Andrew, it’s almost a minute.”

Andrew hit the man harder than necessary to return him to death. He straightened and found Aaron gaping at him and Allison giving him a calculating stare.

“What was that?” asked Aaron, taking a step towards him. "What did you do?"

“Don’t touch me!” Andrew snapped and crossed his arms tightly, not exposing any skin.

Aaron’s eyes opened wide in realization and he stumbled back as if he’d been hit. “ _When_?” he demanded.

“Later,” said Andrew.

“Andrew-”

“Later,” snapped Renee. “Kevin, where is Neil?”

“The Butcher owns quite a bit of real estate, including a large house is over on Baltimore Avenue,” said Kevin. “He has a soundproof murder room in his basement. Riko was always very jealous of it.”

“A murder room?” echoed Andrew with a quiver in his voice.

Allison was already pulling out her phone to alert the others. “Let’s go get our boy,” she said. “And then we’ll have a little chat about magic and secrets.”

* * *

The Queer Avengers congregated outside of Nathan Wesninski’s mansion on Baltimore Ave. and readied their weapons. Aaron and Kevin were wielding exy racquets; Andrew and Renee stuck to their knives; Dan, Wymack, and Allison were all locking and loading their guns.

“What?” asked Allison at Nicky’s dubious look as she checked the safety on a rifle. “I’m rich. I hunt.”

“Humans?” asked Erik.

Allison grinned. “Not usually.”

“Alright,” said Wymack. “Remember that your own personal safety is of the utmost importance. If you don’t feel confident that you want to go in there, you don’t have to. None of us are going to judge you for not wanting to fight the mob.” No one moved, except to shuffle around and grip their weapons securely. “Now, we’re here to get Neil and get out,” continued Wymack. “He’s probably hurt, so the priority is to remove him from the scene and get him to Abby or Aaron.”

“There’s a tunnel leading to the basement from the garage,” said Kevin. “There will probably be between five and ten guards on top of Nathan and Lola.”

“Any questions?” asked Dan. “Then let’s go.”

They spread out and approached the garage; the more experienced fighters at the front while the others hung back. Renee made quick work of picking the lock to the garage door and they started searching for the secret entrance. Jean had just found it when gunfire echoed down the secret tunnel. Andrew took off running, not caring about how many of his companions hissed his name in warning. He hadn’t come all this way to lose Neil when he was practically in reach. He heard footsteps echoing after him, but he kept his focus on the end of the tunnel, where the gunfire had ceased and and from which an eerie silence now emanated.

Andrew pushed through the door, and came up short in confusion. This was not was he was expecting to find.

The facts were these: Stuart Hatford, a British career criminal had once had a contrary, headstrong younger sister. She’d been the youngest of four, coddled and indulged throughout her entire life. As such, when she had decided to marry an American who was known as ‘The Butcher’ none of her brothers had been able to talk any sense into her. The marriage went ahead, and was just as disastrous as Stuart had feared. Unfortunately his sister’s dislike of admitting that she had committed an error prevented her from ever appealing to her family to help her out of her bad situation. When she’d taken her son and run she’d told Stuart in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing from him. That was the last that Stuart had ever heard from her.

It wasn’t until her son Nathaniel had turned up murdered that Stuart had decided to take action. It had taken him several months, but Stuart was convinced that Nathan had killed both his sister and her son and was going to take his life in revenge. He’d assembled his employees, travelled to America, crept into Nathan’s mansion, and killed everyone they found. Well, almost everyone.

“Nathaniel?” Stuart asked in surprise at seeing his gravely wounded nephew in his father’s house. “Bloody hell. What are you doing here? I thought you were dead. Where’s Mary?”

Nathaniel just shook his head mutely. Everyone in the room tensed, then, as they heard running footsteps echoing up the secret passage. A short, muscular blond burst through the door. Stuart had his weapon up instantly.

“No!” cried Nathaniel, before reaching up and trying to grasp Stuart's gun with his ruined hands. He gasped in pain. “No shooting.”

Andrew looked around in confusion. A man who was clearly Nathan Wesninski based on his resemblance to Neil was lying dead in a pool of his own blood, as were several other people. Other people dressed all in black were brandishing guns, but a wounded Neil was sitting calmly in their midst. Wymack and Dan had caught up with him and came into the room, automatically pointing their guns at the people who had their weapons trained on Andrew.

“No shooting of any kind,” said Neil, staggering to his feet. “I mean it.”

“Who are these people?” asked Wymack.

“My uncle,” said Neil, turning to the man closest with him. “These are my friends. No shooting.”

The man clicked the safety back on his gun and lowered it. Hesitantly, so did Wymack and Dan. The rest of the Queer Avengers were now pushing their way into the room.

Andrew took a step towards Nathan Wesninski’s cooling body. He wondered if he could bring him back just to kill him again.

“Andrew,” said Neil, sounding broken. Andrew’s attention was instantly captured and he went to Neil’s side, ignoring his hovering uncle. “You came,” said Neil in awe.

“You’re an idiot,” said Andrew. He wanted to reach out and touch, but Neil was both covered in injuries and missing his ever-present hoodie. He wasn’t about to kill him by accident just after he'd found him alive.

Abby also shoved her way through the British gangsters. “Neil,” she said, beckoning to him. “Come with me. I’ll get you patched up.”

Stuart moved to block their path. “Now wait just a minute,” he said, puffing up like a blowfish. “Nathaniel is coming with me.”

“No he’s not,” said Allison.

“Yeah,” piped up Nicky. “His name is Neil and he belongs with us.”

Neil looked blown over at the support. His eyes found Andrew’s. “You want me to come back?” he asked. “Aren’t you mad?”

“Extremely,” said Andrew. “But you’re coming with us anyway.”

“I can stay?”

“You’re not going anywhere,” affirmed Andrew.

Neil nodded, his eyes a little unfocused and glassy from the pain. “Thanks for murdering my father,” he said to his uncle.

"I was going to do it," huffed Andrew.

“We’ll take it from here,” said Renee, ushering Neil toward the exit. Andrew followed closely behind Neil, one hand bunched in the back of his t-shirt. He wasn’t about to let go anytime soon.

* * *

Andrew ignored what everyone else was doing - he thought he heard Nicky saying something about celebrating with pie - and followed Neil and Abby up to his apartment and into Neil’s bedroom. He watched carefully as Abby treated Neil’s wounds. There were strange, circular burn marks on the backs of his hands interspersed with slashes; and a few straight slashes on one cheek and bite marks on the other. Abby shoved some painkillers down Neil’s throat before cleaning and disinfecting his wounds and wrapping them in gauze.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to check on them,” she said.

Neil gazed at her without comprehension. “Why?” he asked. “We’ve only met a couple times, why are you doing this for me?”

Abby stroked through his hair. “Because you deserve it,” she said simply, then pretended she didn’t notice him becoming weepy as she helped him change shirts and put on a hoodie.

Then she slipped out of the room and they were alone, Neil sitting on his bed looking up at Andrew with a tragic expression.

“Andrew-” he said.

“You kissed me,” accused Andrew. “You kissed me goodbye and didn’t say anything and let yourself be kidnapped.”

“I’m sor-” Andrew raised a hand to punch him, to prevent him from apologizing. His hand shook with the effort of holding back. Neil waited patiently.

“Do not say it again,” he ground out.

“They would have hurt all of you,” said Neil.

“No one asked you to be a martyr,” said Andrew. “We’re a team; why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’m not used to anyone having my back,” said Neil quietly. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“I cannot believe how stupid you are,” said Andrew and let himself grasp the back of Neil’s neck, pulling his head against his chest and resting his face on the top of Neil’s head, breathing him in. He knew that Neil could feel him trembling as the adrenaline left his system.

“Oh,” said Neil in quiet wonder. “You like me.”

“I hate you,” retorted Andrew. “You were supposed to be nothing.”

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” replied Andrew, and breathed in sharply when Neil’s bandaged hands clumsily settled on his hips. They stayed like that for a few minutes, half-hugging and convincing themselves that Neil was still alive.

“I should go see everyone,” said Neil, pulling back a little. “Let them see that I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” argued Andrew.

“No,” said Neil with a small smile. “But I will be. Because of you.”

"Stop looking at me like that."

Neil stiffly pulled himself off the bed and Andrew led him to the door. Aaron, Allison, Renee, Kevin, and Betsy were all gathered in the living room.

“Everyone else is at Go Pie,” said Allison. “But we have some unfinished business to discuss first.”

“I don’t see how it’s any of _your_ business,” spat Aaron. “I’m the one who is apparently _dead_.”

Neil looked at Andrew in surprise, but Andrew just stared at Aaron steadily.

“You’re not even going to argue?” asked Aaron in astonishment.

“Why would I?” asked Andrew. “You’ve obviously figured it out.”

“ _When_?” demanded Aaron.

“Do you know why Kevin made sure that I touched that man again before one minute was up?” said Andrew. Aaron was clearly confused about what he considered a non-sequitur. “Because if I didn’t then someone else would die in his place. The universe likes balance.”

It took Aaron a few moments to put it together. “You mean… _Mom_? Mom died because you brought me back to life?” His mouth opened and closed a couple times like a fish. “But _why_? You hated me. How could you trade my life for hers?”

Andrew felt annoyance spike in his heart. “If you think that there is _anyone’s_ life that I wouldn’t trade for yours you are sorely mistaken,” he growled. “I promised to stick by you. And fuck you for thinking I would break that promise.”

Aaron continued to gawk quietly. “I…” he started to say, before shaking his head and trailing off. He got up and left the apartment without looking at any of them. Andrew stared after him, rage consuming him. This was why he avoided telling Aaron; he knew that he would abandon him as soon as he found out. Neil pressed his shoulder into Andrew’s, wordlessly offering support.

“As touching as that was,” drawled Allison, “I can’t help but notice that you and Neil avoid touching. Neil, who Aaron was convinced was actually dead right around the time that Seth died mysteriously. Neil, whose body was held at Seth’s place of work. Neil, who is supposed to be dead and Seth who _is_ dead because ‘the universe likes balance’.” No one said anything. Allison wheeled on Renee. “Did you know about this?”

“I knew that they were somehow responsible for Seth’s death,” Renee admitted softly. “I didn’t know exactly how.”

Allison stood up straighter suddenly, righteous in her grief and wrath. “And, what? You wanted my money so you lied about Riko’s involvement?”

“Technically, Riko had Neil killed which directly led to Seth’s death,” Kevin tried to justify. Allison glared and he subsided.

“And it didn’t occur to _any_ of you that I might actually care to know the truth about how someone I loved died? It was more important to use me that even after we became friends, you still didn’t come clean?” Renee, Kevin, and Neil all studied the floor; Andrew was still staring after where Aaron had disappeared.

“Well, congratulations,” said Allison. “You got your revenge team together. But I am done. I never want to see any of you ever again.” She started storming off, before stopping suddenly. She reached up and removed the diamond necklace that she wore at all times, turned back, and tossed it to Renee.

“There you go,” she said snidely. “That’s what you really wanted, isn’t it? Now you can leave town with your spoils and you no longer have any excuse for coming near me.” She spun on her heel and stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

After a few minutes of silence, while Renee was obviously trying to pull herself together, Betsy spoke up. “Well, that wasn’t the best,” she said.

“Give it up, Betsy,” said Renee, more harshly than she’d ever spoken to the older woman. “We’re lost causes. We are not good people.”

“Hmm,” said Betsy, standing up and walking into their midst. “I’m going to tell you a secret,” she said. “There is no such things as inherently good people and inherently bad people. There are no magical people in the world that always choose the right thing and know what to do at all times and find doing the right thing easy. There are only actions.” She paused. “And sure, your childhoods have informed your morality. But every single person everywhere decides their own actions. Every day they decide whether to make good choices or bad choices. Lying to Allison was a bad choice, but it doesn’t make you bad people. Just like a single good action in a lifetime of bad doesn’t make you a good person. Instead you have to choose. Every day you have to choose to make good choices. So, yes, Renee, today you may feel like a bad person. But tomorrow you can still make choices to become a good one. It’s up to you.”

Renee looked up at her. “What if tomorrow I decide that I still want revenge on Riko Moriyama?”

Betsy smiled. “Punishing someone who has had every opportunity to make good choices and has used every one of them to become a monster is not necessarily a bad choice,” she pointed out. “The four of you have so much potential. Your future is what you make of it.” She turned to Neil. “Now, Neil, come downstairs so that everyone can fuss over you. You certainly gave us a scare tonight.”

Neil let Betsy steer him down into the pie shop while Betsy’s words permeated into Renee, Andrew, and Kevin’s brains.

What was in store for Renee’s future? Would she continue being Renee after failing so horribly with Allison? Or leave town with her diamond necklace and return to her life of crime?

And for Andrew’s? Had he lost Aaron? What would happen with him and Neil? Would he be able to find happiness with the most unlikely of people?

And Kevin? Would he ever return to the exy court? Or mend his relationship with Jean? Or start something stable with Thea?

The only thing that was for certain was the Riko Moriyama was going down and he wouldn’t know what hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go!


	9. The Death of Riko Moriyama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has references to a past accidental overdose, and non-graphic murder.

1 week, 2 days, 9 hours, and 34 minutes after Neil’s uncle ended his father’s life, Neil was enjoying morning pie with Andrew, Kevin, and Renee while Nicky drifted in and out of their conversation as he waited on the other tables. He was leaning against the side of the booth, telling a joke, when the door jingled open. He stop mid-sentence and openly stared as Allison stormed across the shop.

“You assholes,” she said heatedly as she nudged Renee over to take her usual seat. The rest of them watched her in trepidation. She rolled her eyes. “Pie,” she said to Nicky. He rushed away to get her a slice of the blueberry pie that the rest of them were having.

Taking in their expressions, she rolled her eyes again, somehow with even more attitude. “I should have known that you rejects wouldn’t get social cues.”

“Uhhh…” said Kevin.

“You said you never wanted to see us again,” supplied Neil.

“You were _supposed_ to come try to change my mind,” Allison said haughtily. “But it’s been over a week, so I figured you didn’t get that memo.” She looked around at them. “Well? You’re all a week behind on grovelling.” Nicky dropped off her pie and then made a quick exit before he could be called upon to apologize for something that was absolutely not his fault.

“Sorry Allison,” said Neil halfheartedly.

Allison scoffed. “That was terrible. We’ll work on it.”

“Well I’m only sort of sorry,” defended Neil. “I’m not sorry that I’m alive instead of Seth, and I’m not sorry that we didn’t tell you Andrew’s secret, and I’m not really sorry that we lied to you in the first place.”

“This is not the greatest apology,” said Allison with a raised eyebrow.

“I _am_ sorry that we didn’t tell you the truth after we got to know you and learned that we didn’t have to manipulate you into helping us.”

Allison nodded and turned to Andrew.

“I have nothing to apologize for,” he said simply and took a bite of his pie.

Allison’s lips thinned. “You’re the one who killed Seth.”

“It was Kevin that stopped me from re-deading Neil. If he hadn’t then none of this would have happened.” He tightened his grip on his fork until his knuckles turned white.

“It’s unfortunate that Seth paid the price for Neil’s survival,” said Kevin carefully. “He didn’t deserve it.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t deserve a lot of what happened to him,” said Allison. “He didn’t deserve his rotten childhood, he didn’t deserve to be an addict, he definitely didn’t deserve _me_ , but we don’t always get what we deserve, do we?” She turned to Renee. “You’re being awfully quiet.”

Renee straightened and met Allison’s eyes. “It was my idea to tell you that Riko was responsible for Seth’s death. I wanted to steal your diamond by seducing you.” Allison blinked and Renee swallowed heavily. “I wasn’t expecting to fall for you.”

“I’m really mad at you,” said Allison, almost in a whisper. Neil, Andrew, and Kevin were desperately trying to pretend that they weren’t still sitting around the table.

“I know,” said Renee. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You did,” replied Allison. “A lot.” There was a long pause, with Renee staring down at the tabletop. “You’ll have to work pretty hard to make it up to me.”

Renee lifted her head, her eyes shining with hope. “You mean…?”

Allison shifted uncomfortably. “I guess I fell for you, too,” she muttered. “And I, like, missed you, or whatever.” She quickly raised her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m still super angry with you.”

“Okay,” said Renee, trying and failing to keep the relief out of her voice. “You’re allowed.”

“I know I am,” said Allison petulantly.

Renee pulled Allison’s diamond necklace out of her pocket. “I would never have sold this,” she said.

“Keep it,” said Allison. “Wear it and remember not to lie to me.”

“I’ll wear it and remember who my heart belongs to.”

“Awwww,” said Nicky, suddenly appearing beside the table. “That was so sappy!” Allison looked up with a glare, but Nicky just put his hand over his heart and grinned, looking slightly teary-eyed. “Love conquers all!”

Allison rolled her eyes for a third time but she looked secretly pleased. Then she shook herself and leaned over Renee to talk to Neil. “So, you’re looking less like you’ve gone through a meat grinder.”

Neil smiled and held up his bandaged hand. His bandages were being changed daily and he was healing well. “It turns out I’m alive enough for my body to heal my wounds,” he said.

A strange expression crossed Allison’s face. “It kind of hurts my brain to realize that you died before I could meet your tragic ass,” she said. “I _am_ glad that you’re alive, my sweet, little trash panda.”

“Ummm…” said Neil.

Kevin tilted his head thoughtfully. “I see it,” he said.

“I’m not a raccoon!” objected Neil.

“That’s debatable,” said Andrew. “I certainly wouldn’t be overly surprised to find you digging through the garbage.”

“Have you _seen_ the useful things that people just throw away?” demanded Neil.

“No,” said Andrew dryly. “Because I don’t sift through the trash.”

“Well that’s good,” said Allison. “Imagine if there were dead things in there.” She paused. “Wait, does your power work on animals?”

“Yes,” said Andrew shortly.

“So if you touched a taxidermied animal…” she trailed off. “What kind of remains does it work on? Like, I assume you can’t touch a pile of cremated ashes and boom! Alive. Hey, what about flowers? Or insects? If you swat a mosquito does it instantly come back to life?”

“I am uncomfortable with this topic of conversation,” said Kevin.

Allison looked at him incredulously. “You knew he had this power and you didn’t ask him a million questions?” she asked.

“We should respect his privacy,” said Renee gently, not wanting to annoy Allison but seeing a hunted expression cross Andrew’s face.

“Leave him alone,” said Neil sharply. “He’s not an experiment.”

Allison raised her hands in surrender. “Fiiine,” she drawled, “if you’re going to be touchy about it.” She then cleared her throat. “But you _could_ let me say goodbye to Seth…”

“No,” said Andrew instantly. “Never again will I wake up someone that one of my friends knows.”

Kevin winced. “I think I proved with Neil that that isn’t the best idea.”

“He’s been dead for months,” put in Renee. “You don’t want to see his body now.”

Allison sighed deeply, then seemed to realize something. “Hey, Andrew,” she said. “Did you just refer to me as your _friend_?”

* * *

It was 4 days, 21 minutes later, and the same group of people were enjoying their mango-passionfruit pie. Nicky was baking that morning, while Andrew wasn’t working and Katelyn was waiting tables. Kevin was explaining to Allison what evidence Dan had had them fabricating and planting over the past two weeks.

“Have you found any more deaths that could be pinned on Riko?” Allison asked.

Kevin shifted uncomfortably.

“What?” asked Allison.

“They’re avoiding the morgue,” said Renee bluntly, with obvious disapproval. “Well, mostly Andrew’s avoiding Aaron.”

“I thought we recently learned the benefits of good communication?” said Allison sarcastically.

“He thinks Aaron hates him,” said Neil, gesturing towards Andrew.

“He doesn’t,” said Katelyn softly, as she passed the table. “He misses you. He’s just confused. You should talk to him.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed but he didn’t say anything and all of them, even Allison, knew better than to continue harping on the topic.

“Well if we’re avoiding the morgue, should we start ambulance chasing?” asked Allison. “You know, get to the bodies while they’re fresh?”

“You sound alarmingly excited about fresh bodies,” teased Renee, then paused and frowned a little. Things were still strained between her and Allison and she wasn’t sure if they were at a point where teasing was okay again.

Allison elbowed her in assurance and opened her mouth to answer but her face clouded in confusion as she caught sight of the person headed to their table.

He was accompanied by a bodyguard. The bodyguard pulled up a chair for him and then hung back, his thick arms crossed across his chest.

“Lord Ichirou,” said Kevin in a strangled voice, quaking at being face to face with Riko’s older brother, the head of the Moriyama crime family.

Ichirou Moriyama was cool, calm, arrogance-made-flesh. He surveyed the five of them in the manner that a child might look at ants: vaguely interested but knowing that he could crush them if he wished.

“Your plans for my brother are not as secret as you think they are,” he said in a silky smooth tone. Kevin gave a little whimper.

“And you’re here to tell us to stop?” said Allison, a challenge in her voice.

“Yes,” he replied simply. “Your plan would bring a negative spotlight onto the Moriyama name.”

“ _Riko_ is a negative stain upon your name,” said Neil hotly. Kevin kicked him under the table.

Ichirou raised his eyebrow a minuscule fraction and inclined his head slightly. “As you say,” he conceded. “I am not ignorant of his actions against you and your friends. If you agree to halt your vendetta and torpedo the lawsuit of Ms. Wilds-”

“Mx. Wilds,” Renee corrected.

“-then I will ensure that my brother is taken care of.”

“And if we don’t agree?” asked Andrew. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that Ichirou wouldn’t have come without incentive for them to do exactly as he wished.

“Then the proper authorities will find out about your strange little abilities with regards to waking the dead,” said Ichirou. There was a collective in-drawn breath around the table. “I’m absolutely certain that there is more than one scientist who would love to study you. You will never see the light of day again. And your brother and Nathaniel here are of interest, too, of course. I imagine that they’ll be dissected to try to understand what you did to them.”

Andrew ground his teeth together and kept himself from lashing out. The bodyguard would kill him before he could kill Ichirou.

“You’ll do no such thing,” said Allison hotly.

Ichirou’s reptilian gaze slid over to her. “I assure you I can, Miss Reynolds. And if you think you’re in a position to stop me, you are gravely mistaken. It would take just a few choice words to your parents about your chosen companions before they finally give up on you and cut you off completely.”

Allison’s eyes flashed in anger, but she subsided.

“Do you see now? I can do what I wish. For instance, Natalie Shields is still wanted in Detroit in conjunction with a murder. And Kevin. You have always belonged to the Moriyamas. I have let you go free, but I can take you back at any time and ruin your father and his wife while I’m at it.” He looked around the table. “Horrible things will befall every one of you and all your friends if you continue forward with this plan. Take my deal.” He stood. “You have twenty-four hours to make a decision. Make the correct one.”

He brushed his hands down his immaculate suit and then left without looking back.

* * *

“Alright, let me make sure I understand this properly,” said Dan, their voice shaking in anger, after Renee had explained to the rest of the Queer Avengers what Ichirou had said. “If we don’t agree to scrap our prosecution of Riko, Aaron and Neil will be killed, Andrew and Renee will be locked up, Allison will be left destitute, Kevin will be taken as a slave, and unspecified ‘bad things’ will happen to the rest of us?”

“That’s the gist of it,” said Neil wryly.

Dan slumped tiredly. “So there’s really only one option?”

“Did you really think a mob boss would leave us with more than one?” asked Jean. “He’s powerful and used to getting what he wants.”

“At least he’s willing to ‘take care of’ Riko, whatever that means,” said Matt.

“It means that he’s going to do exactly what he was already planning on doing, but is pretending he’s doing us a favour,” said Kevin.

Silence fell throughout the shop.

“So that’s it?” asked Laila.

“I think it has to be,” said Wymack.

Thea nodded decisively. “We’ve been outmanoeuvred and it would be best to back down gracefully.”

“Yeah,” agreed Al. “Live to fight again another day.”

“But it’s not the end of us, right?” Erik double-checked.

“Of course not! All of you better spend all your free time here hanging out, or I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself!” exclaimed Nicky.

They broke up into smaller groups after that, catching up with each other. The atmosphere was more subdued than usual, everyone worried about Ichirou’s threats.

After about twenty minutes of Katelyn quietly cajoling Aaron, he huffed and approached Andrew.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, then eyed Neil who had been leaning against Andrew’s side. “Alone?”

Andrew acquiesced, giving Neil’s neck an absent squeeze as he led Aaron into the kitchen.

“So you two are together then?” Aaron asked. Andrew’s feelings had been made clear when Neil had been abducted, but Aaron had still been surprised at the almost-cuddling the two of them had been engaged in all evening.

“Yes,” said Andrew, with a challenge in his voice. “Is that a problem?”

Aaron winced. He knew that he’d not reacted well when he’d mistakenly discovered Andrew’s sexuality in high school when he’d walked in on him blowing some guy, and they’d never discussed it since then. “I’m not seventeen anymore; I’ve grown up,” he said. “I want you to be happy.”

Andrew cocked his head. “I am,” he admitted.

“But you can’t touch him?” asked Aaron, having realized that Neil was another person who Andrew had brought back to life.

“We’re working it out,” said Andrew.

Aaron nodded, not really understanding, but accepting that Andrew could make his own decisions. “I wanted to thank you,” he said. “For saving my life.”

“I didn’t,” said Andrew, his eyes hard. “I was too late.”

For the first time, Aaron imagined how it had been for Andrew - they’d only been fifteen and newly acquainted when Andrew would have found him unresponsive. He imagined how he would have felt if their positions were reversed. “I’m sorry I did that to you,” he said quietly. “I’m still mad that my mother died in my place, that I never got to make peace with her, but I’m so glad that you did what you did. I’ve already done so much, come so far, since then, and I still have so much life left and I can’t believe I almost lost everything nine years ago.”

“I’m glad you’re still here,” said Andrew looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“Me, too,” said Aaron. “Now, I’m going back to Katelyn and she can stop bothering me to talk about my feelings.”

“Yes, we’ve probably have enough heart-to-hearts for at least another decade.”

Aaron smiled slightly and left the kitchen; a couple minutes later Neil came to look for Andrew. Andrew reached out and reeled Neil in close to him. He’d found over the last couple weeks that he liked to have Neil in arm’s length, keeping his hands on him so that he knew exactly where he was. Especially tonight, with all of their friends in Go Pie; it was too reminiscent of the night that Neil had disappeared.

“Everything okay?” asked Neil.

“Mmm, yes,” said Andrew. “We can stop avoiding the morgue now.”

“I’m glad,” Neil chuckled. “Can we hide out in the kitchen for a bit? Everyone keeps coming up and asking me how our relationship works since we can’t touch.”

Andrew looked up at him. “How does everyone know that?”

“Allison and Nicky,” said Neil sheepishly. “They’ve definitely told everyone that I’m allergic to you to explain why we can’t touch skin to skin.”

“It’s none of their business,” said Andrew.

“I know that,” said Neil. “Renee pointed out that intimacy and trust don’t require contact, but most people seem skeptical.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You know, if you still wanted to go out and hook up sometimes, we could discuss that.”

“What.”

“I know that you’re not like me, that you desire sex and that I can’t ever satisfy those needs for you. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind if you needed to go act on your needs. As long as there’s no emotional connection and you don’t sneak around behind my back, it would be fine with me.”

Andrew almost recoiled but just gripped Neil’s hips tighter. “I don’t want anyone else.”

Neil shrugged. “Okay. I’m just saying that it’s an option we can discuss if you feel you need to.”

Andrew breathed out. “I’ll keep it in mind. Right now I’m happy with how things are. I can look after my own needs; it’s not like anything other than my own hand has ever gotten me off.”

Neil breathed a laugh. “Good to know.”

“What brought this up?”

“I don’t want you to give up anything for me and resent me later.”

“I’m not giving up anything for you,” said Andrew, while briefly rested his forehead on Neil’s shoulder.

Neil straightened a little with a sigh. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time we go back out there before someone comes to track us down.”

“I’ll glare at anyone who tries to ask about our private lives,” promised Andrew.

“My hero,” said Neil.

* * *

The next morning, Ichirou’s bodyguard entered the shop alone. “Do you agree to my employer’s bargain?” he asked.

“We do,” said Renee coldly.

The man nodded. “He says you may send a representative to bear witness as he upholds his end of the deal.”

Kevin paled at the thought of facing Riko. “Not me,” he said.

“I’ll go,” said Neil. “I have some unfinished business with Riko.”

Allison looked like she was going to argue, but conceded Neil’s right to face the man who’d ordered his murder. The bodyguard nodded and gestured Neil out of the shop. Andrew followed.

There was a limousine sitting outside of the pie shop. The bodyguard opened the door.

“I said one,” said Ichirou when he saw Andrew.

“I have to come,” said Andrew, looking directly at Ichirou. “I don’t trust you to bring him back.”

Ichirou’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave a sharp nod and Andrew and Neil got into the car. There was silence as they drove through town. Ichirou spent the entire trip watching them in consideration. Neil felt shivers slide up and down his spine at Ichirou’s frank appraisal. It wasn’t sexual, but it made him think that this wasn’t the last time they would see him. He looked like a man who was planning how he could best use the talents of the people in front of him, how he could blackmail them into doing almost anything.

They pulled up to a opulent house in the Evermore neighbourhood of town. Ichirou got out of the car and then led Andrew and Neil through the residence as if he owned it. None of Riko’s guards seemed surprised to see him and all inclined their heads in respect. They were clearly all owned by him.

He gestured for a guard to open the door to an office.

“You know better than to come in without knock...ing…” said Riko angrily, trailing off when his older brother entered his lavish office. He half stood, but Ichirou motioned for him to remain sitting. Riko glanced at Andrew and Neil - he blanched a little when he saw the latter - but his attention was almost completely on Ichirou. “Ichirou,” he said hesitantly. “What brings you here?”

Ichirou ignored him, and casually took a seat before turning to Neil. “Did you have anything to say?”

“Yeah,” said Neil in annoyance. “Why did you have me killed?”

Riko affected confusion badly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He was trying to weaken me,” answered Ichirou. “He thought your death would anger my butcher. He has been trying to make a move against me for a while.”

Riko grimaced. “I have never done anything but try to strengthen the family name, brother.”

“You have been exceedingly careless,” corrected Ichirou. “Your temper lost us Kevin Day and Jean Moreau, you had another potential asset murdered, your spiteful behaviour has attracted attention from those who have the means to drag your name through the mud publicly.” He pulled a gun out of his inside pocket and nonchalantly started attaching a silencer onto the barrel. “If you were anyone other than a Moriyama, your incompetence and unpredictability would have resulted in your death long ago. As it was, out of respect for the blood we share, I’ve spared your life.” He aimed the weapon at Riko, who was sitting still in shock, his eyes wide. “But now you’ve attempted to work against me, and my patience is at an end.” The gun let out a little pop and Riko fell back, his expression still shocked but now with a small hole in the direct centre of his forehead.

Ichirou stood calmly and wiped off the gun with a handkerchief. He moved towards the door.

“Can we just have a minute?” asked Neil.

Ichirou looked at him, back at Riko, and then back at Neil again. He considered, and then nodded and opened the door, handing the weapon to the waiting guard.

“Andrew, can I talk to him?” asked Neil. “I want to gloat.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, but moved to Riko’s side. He touched one of his hands.

Riko blinked and looked around. “Ichirou?” he croaked.

“Hey asshole,” said Neil. “Remember when you decided I had to die? Well, fuck you. You’re dead now and I’m alive. And Kevin’s alive and happy, and Jean’s alive and happy. And no one is going to remember you because you’re worthless and unimportant.”

Riko snarled and dove over his desk, wrapping his hands around Neil’s throat. Andrew swore and ran over, smacking Riko hard across the face. Neil peeled his rigor mortised fingers from his neck and smiled sheepishly up at Andrew, who was giving him an extremely unimpressed glare.

“Oops?” he said.

“Can you at least _try_ not to antagonize angry, dangerous people who have nothing to lose?” asked Andrew in exasperation. “It’s bad enough that you’re a murder magnet without you giving people reasons to attack you.”

“No promises,” said Neil. “When I’m angry I don’t always think things through.”

“Shocker,” said Andrew dryly. “Come on,” he continued, “let’s go home.”

* * *

5 days, 10 hours, and 11 minutes later Ichirou was sitting in his own office when he noticed movement in the shadows. He pressed the panic button under his desk to alert his guards and calmly looked towards the intruder.

“I knew someone would be coming,” he said evenly. “I assumed it would be Shields.”

“She was incredibly useful in helping me sneak in… and in disabling your security system,” said David Wymack, stalking forward like a panther. He nodded to where Ichirou’s hand was still on the button. “No one’s coming.”

Ichirou opened the drawer of his desk where he kept his gun. “Your weapons have also been removed,” said Wymack.

Ichirou crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “You won’t get away with this.”

“I’m pretty sure you know this, but the police in this town are incredibly lazy. They’re not going to catch me.”

“I have their loyalty. I have many loyal allies.”

“You have people whose pockets you line with cash. Once you’re dead they won’t care about you at all,” countered Wymack.

“I can offer you a deal.”

Wymack gave a terrifying smile. “You are a danger to my son and his friends. The only deal I will accept is your death.”

Ichirou knew that the man in front of him had worked as an enforcer for a gang before he’d turned his life around. He would be lying to himself if he thought this man was incapable of following through on his threat. He stood, with an idea of making a dash for the door, but the larger man grabbed him and forced him back into his chair, injecting him with a syringe full of a clear liquid.

He felt short of breath almost immediately, and his heart rate slowed despite his panic. He felt a second needle poke his skin.

He sat back in his chair, pulling his collar away from his throat and gasping for breath. “What did you do?” he managed to croak.

“Calcium gluconate,” said Wymack smugly. “And potassium phosphate. You’re about to experience heart failure.”

“I’ll kill you,” he threatened and tried to move, but his limbs were tingling and he was losing concentration.

“You should have stayed here in your ivory tower and let us deal with your brother,” were the last words that Ichirou Moriyama ever heard.

* * *

The facts were these: Ichirou Moriyama’s demise started new beginnings for the self-styled Queer Avengers. Although they remained friends, their priorities shifted and, under Betsy’s guidance, they picked up healthier pastimes than revenge.

Allison and Renee repaired their relationship, although when her parents found out about it Allison was disowned. She didn’t let that deter her. She got a job with a PR firm, having lots of experience dealing with publicity and paparazzi, and she and Renee moved into a small apartment together. Renee worked with a not-for-profit charity that provided support to inner-city, underprivileged children. Sometimes the young girls she worked with brought up bad memories for her, but between her faith and the unwavering support of her beloved girlfriend she never got lost in her thoughts. She and Allison had decided to sell the diamond necklace, donating the entire amount to the charity with which Renee worked. As a reminder not to lie to the woman she loved, she wore a tiny cubic zirconia around her neck.

Dan continued their revolutionary law career, working hard for transgender and genderqueer rights. Al and Robin stayed with them and were eventually also made partners. Matt stayed working at his job as a personal trainer, but he started specializing in teaching self-defense courses. Once he and Dan got married and had children, he was the world’s happiest stay-at-home dad; he was thrilled to stay home with his children while his ass-kicking spouse was out making the world a better place.

Marissa ended up swearing off men after getting her heart broken one too many times, and Katelyn suggested that she date women instead. After a few years of that she’d also sworn off women. Robin had laughed when ze heard and offered up hirself to date; being agender she was one of the only people on the planet who Marissa hadn’t sworn off. They’d attended Laila and Al’s wedding as their first official date and had both been radiantly happy.

Aaron and Katelyn stayed together, even through Katelyn’s time at medical school and ridiculous hours as a pediatric surgery resident. Aaron stayed at the county coroner’s office, eventually becoming the head coroner and enjoying the 9-5 work hours. He remained close with both Andrew and Nicky, and even though he knew how Kevin, Neil, and Andrew were solving murders he always managed to dryly say, ‘Mmm-hmm,’ to their most outlandish findings.

Nicky kept working at the pie shop, happy that all his friends came to visit him at work. His and Erik’s relationship was strong. They adopted a truly outrageous number of dogs, which, thanks to Thea, were all well-trained and, thanks to Erik, were all fashionably dressed. Nicky worked to expand the pie shop, eventually buying the property next door. Andrew pretended to be grumpy, but didn’t interfere with Nicky’s plans to make their shop into a joint pie shop/doggy cafe. That way his furry little children could come to work with him.

Wymack offered Jean a job as an assistant coach to his exy team. Although Jean was harsh and critical, he eventually found his equilibrium as a coach. Once he discovered that Kevin wasn’t playing exy anymore, he dragged him onto the court. With Jean at his side, Jeremy cheering them on, and Thea’s * _clicks_ * to keep them on-task, Kevin eventually learned to play with his right hand. He even joined an adult exy league. All of the Queer Avengers had gone to his first game, and Wymack and Abby were always among the spectators.

Kevin, Neil, and Andrew continued to work together to solve murders but Kevin made it a priority to ask the deceased if they had any last wishes or messages and did his best to deliver them. He and Thea remained together, and if her dog-training skills followed them into the bedroom… well, they never told anyone.

Andrew and Neil were never able to touch each other, but they still found ways to share non-sexual physical intimacy. Although they faced problems, their open communication and foundation of trust let them weather them together. Andrew sometimes ached to touch Neil, but he would never give up the connection they had. Andrew remained close with Betsy; she became the replacement for the sub-par mothers that he had lost. He had never thought that he could be more than simply content but he found that he was much more than that.

Neil stayed. He worked with Andrew in the pie shop, helped Nicky monitor the doggy cafe, hung out with Matt and Allison and Renee, and never missed sharing morning pie with Andrew. His life was full and happy and far, far better than he had ever imagined it could be. Sometimes he was grateful to Riko for killing him; it was how he found his family and Andrew and everything that he had ever wanted or needed.

His ending had ended up being the best beginning of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over! Let me know what you thought!
> 
> I have some things in the works, so keep your eyes open. I think I lost the fight I had with myself, so there will probably be an Avengers AU eventually. I just want you to remember that it's your fault for encouraging me and I'm expecting everyone who said I should write it to comment on it ;P

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


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